


Book II: Unpredictable

by The_Crystal_Rose



Series: Through the Looking Glass [2]
Category: Dragon Ball Z
Genre: 7 year gap, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Adventure, Angst, Canon Related, Drama, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Romance, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 13:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12865854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Crystal_Rose/pseuds/The_Crystal_Rose
Summary: With the threat of the androids in the past, life at Capsule Corporation has returned to normal. Except issues between Vegeta and Bulma have yet to be resolved and with a one year old toddler on the loose, life for the two stubborn beings has become unpredicatable. Continues till the Buu Saga.[Sequel to Book I: Unnatural]





	1. Prologue: Hope

Bulma sighed as she made her way up the steps from her private lab. She couldn’t find it in herself to celebrate the ending of the games. They may have won, but she felt they lost so much in the end. Her thoughts, then, drifted to Goku. Her best and most loyal friend was no longer a part of this plane. His death had been felt by everyone and just the thought of his sacrifice brought unshed tears to the young scientist’s eyes. No longer could she pick up the phone and hear his cheerful voice, no longer would she feel his hug whenever they reunited after a certain amount of time apart, no longer would she be able to feel disgusted and strangely amused as she would watch him inhale a feast fit for an army, and just those thoughts alone caused those unshed tears to spill down her cheeks as she mourned his loss.

The Games had been over for several weeks now and no matter the losses of a hard fought battle, life was forced to move on.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Bulma wiped at her eyes, attempting to rid herself of the heavy melancholy feeling that had settled over her ever since the end of the games and she pulled a small smile as she approached the living room where her mother and son currently resided. She could hear his giggles from all the way down the hall and she instantly felt better. She may have lost her best friend, but at least her son was safe.

She stood in the archway to the living room, her shoulder now leaning against the wall as she watched her mother tickle her son and for just a moment, she forgot all about the hardships they all faced these last few months.

But it only lasted a brief moment.

The moment her son pulled that all-too-familiar scowl when her mother stopped her tickling, Bulma was taken aback at the similarities between her son and his father. She had tried hard not to think of the Saiya-jin Prince since the incident, but occasionally, she was unsuccessful at keeping him out of her thoughts. For so long, she had felt betrayed by his actions, the words he had spoken to her nearly a year ago had seemed like an empty promise to her.

But no matter how long she tried to stay hurt, she knew she couldn’t.

The day her feelings changed was the day her future son stayed one night at Capsule Corp before he left for his own timeline. They had both sat on the back patio, watching the sun set, basking in the peaceful moment, when he finally turned to her and broke the silence. She was curious most of the day why he was so quiet and had occasionally poked at him to find out what was on his mind, only to be met with a gentle smile, a shake of his head, and the simple word, “Nothing,” a word that held more meaning that what it really meant.

After asking several more times, Bulma gave up, never expecting to hear what was plaguing her future son, only to be pulled from her thoughts when he indulged her the moment he lost his life. His voice had been soft as a whisper, yet gruff, his eyes were distant as he explained the moment Cell took his life and he never stopped in his story as Bulma gasped at the painful death he endured from a single blast to the chest.

But then, his words took on a warmer note when he explained about the moment Vegeta attempted to avenge him, from what Yamcha had told him.

Bulma bit her lip as she gazed down at the carpeted floor, his words ringing clear in her head.

_“He said he’s never seen Vegeta lose it like that… He put his life on the line for me,” Trunks whispered with a small smile._

_Bulma gazed at him in shock and Trunks turned to her and chuckled. “You told me once…in the future…that he was a good man; that you knew he cared, even if he never showed it. And when I came here, and finally met him, I didn’t believe you…till then.”_

_“You were right,” he said with a soft smile before he returned his gaze back to the setting sun._

_You were right_ , he had said. To this day, Bulma still had trouble believing his words, yet the look in his eyes told her it was the truth. And when she finally accepted it, all her anger, all her pain, the betrayal she originally felt melted away. Now, she just wished he would come back.

A burst of laughter broke Bulma from her melancholy thoughts and she snapped her gaze to her happy son, her mother returning to her tickling and she sighed.

She wouldn’t give up hope.

He’d come back.

_oOo_

“And now, turn, lift your leg, and bend forward… Yes! Just like that!”

Bulma grumbled as she attempted the pose the woman on the screen was mastering perfectly. She lifted her leg and bent it forward before trying to reach down and touch the floor with the tips of her fingers.

_Oh my Kami, it feels like my legs are going to split apart!_

“Good! Now, inhale… hold… exhale… Fabulous!”

The young scientist growled in frustration before reaching over and grabbing the foam yoga block that was next to her feet and threw it at the screen. “Fuck you annoying yoga bitch!”

“Bulma! Don’t swear in front of Trunks like that!” A voice scolded her from behind. Taking in a deep breath, Bulma returned to her standing position carefully and glanced behind her to see her mother holding Trunks’ hand and she frowned.

“I didn’t know he was in here,” She defended rather lamely before giving her son a bright smile, her previous frustrations forgotten. “Hi baby! How was your swimming lesson?” She asked as she kneeled down and held her arms open for him to step into.

Trunks beamed and immediately let go of his grandmother’s hand, his little wet form running across the room and crashing into his mother’s embrace as he squealed, “Twunks swim, Mama!”

“Good job, sweetie!” Bulma encouraged as she lifted him into her arms, uncaring of his wet state as she bounced him on her hip. “Did he have any problems?” She asked her mother as he helped her son take off his little floaters.

Bunny shook her head. “No, not really. Although, he nearly gave me a heart attack when he jumped into the pool without his floaters. Thankfully it was in the shallow end…”

Bulma chuckled as she tossed his floaters onto the floor. “At least he likes to swim,” she said simply as she reached over for the towel she was previously using and began to wipe him down. “Thanks for taking him, by the way. I’ve been trying to get rid of this baby weight. It seems I’ll never get my old figure back,” she sighed remorsefully.

“Oh, don’t say that,” her mother frowned and crossed her arms. “It just takes time. You just happened to gain a lot while you were pregnant. Who could blame you? You were carrying a half-Saiya-jin baby!”

Bulma rolled her eyes and sat Trunks on his feet once she was done drying him. She watched as he bolted to the other side of the room and began to play with his blocks. “I was a bottomless pit when I was pregnant with him. Now I know why,” she said as she folded the wet towel and stood. “That kid never stops eating. I was so glad when I stopped breast feeding him.”

Bunny nodded in agreement and held her hand out for the towel, to which Bulma handed her. “I’ll go put this in the wash. Bring me his suit once he’s changed and I’ll wash that too.”

“Okay, thanks,” Bulma smiled as she stood and walked over to Trunks, shaking her head as she watched him build a somewhat complicated structure. She knelt down next to him and ruffled his semi-dried hair. “Ya know, baby, that building would be a lot more stable if the bigger block was on the bottom,” she explained as she reached to correct his error.

“No, Mama!” He yelled with wide eyes, causing her to pull her hand back. He scowled at her deeply before he returned to building his structure, putting smaller blocks on the bottom while placing the bigger blocks on top.

Bulma sat there, unable to turn her gaze away from the back of her son’s head. The look he threw her was pure Vegeta and it immediately brought her back to the old days when the Saiya-jin Prince used to live with her. For a moment, her heart skipped a beat at the reminder and she couldn’t help but wonder. Where was the prince now? What was he doing? What was he thinking about? Did he want to come home? Did he want to see their son?

Did he want to see _her_?

She sighed and then shook her head when she watched his unbelievably tall tower sway and then crumble from the weight of the bigger blocks on top. Trunks huffed in annoyance and reached for the blocks to try again, never taking notice to his mother’s thoughtful silence.

Bulma stood and pushed any and all thoughts of Vegeta to the back of her mind. “Okay, sweetie, we need to get you changed. Grandma wants to do laundry.”

“No!” He frowned as he began to build again.

Bulma blinked. Had her baby boy just say no to her?

“Excuse me?”

When he didn’t respond back, Bulma’s previous good mood vanished and she stood. “Put your blocks away Trunks. Now!”

“No!”

Letting out a long sigh, Bulma bent down and took the block he was currently holding out of his hand and dropped it on the floor before placing her hands underneath his arms and picking him up. It didn’t take long for little Trunks to burst into tears as she began to walk away. Normally, her son being in tears would pull at her heartstrings, but in this instance, it wasn’t like him to talk back to her and she stood her ground. She bounded up the steps with her boy in her arms and made her way into his room before placing him on the floor as she rummaged through his little dresser for clean clothes.

“I’m not falling for your tears this time, Trunks. You do not talk back to me,” she said sternly as she dropped the clothes onto the rocking chair. “You understand?”

He continued to cry as she picked him back up and took him into the bathroom across the hall. She sat him down on the toilet and began to run the bath before she sighed and rubbed at her forehead. His tears were getting to her. She couldn’t help it. He was her little boy; she’d do anything for him.

“Sweetie, its okay…” Bulma said soothingly as she knelt before him, taking his little arms and pulling them away from his face so she could kiss his forehead. “It’s okay, baby. Stop crying…” She began to rub his back as his cries started to ease and soon, he was only hiccupping.

Once his hiccups were only sniffles, she began to peel off his trunks before lifting him into the bath. She then turned the tap off and reached for the soap. Trunks glanced up at her with sad little eyes as she began to lather his hair.

“You can’t talk back like that, sweetie,” Bulma began to explain gently as she washed her son’s hair. “It’s rude. You don’t want to be rude, right?”

His lower lip began to tremble and he shook his head, causing her to smile a little.

“Good. Being rude doesn’t get you very far.” She took a cup full of water and tilted his head back as she rinsed the soap from his hair.

She continued to bathe him, but his silence was starting to bother her. She sat the cup of water aside and took a hand full of bubbles from the water and blew them towards him, bringing a smile to his face. She repeated it again, the bubbles flying in every direction and floating all around him, and soon, Trunks began to laugh.

“Bubbles!” He squealed as he cupped some in his hand and blew on them, copying his mother.

“Bulma? Are you in there?” She heard her mother call her through the closed door of the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’m giving Trunks a bath,” she yelled back as she gave her son a playful splash.

The door squeaked open as her mother came walking in and she smiled at the sight before her. Trunks sat in the tub; bubbles piled on top of his head as he shaped the frothy substance into a cone before he cupped some more bubbles and added them on top.

“What are you doing, you silly boy?” Bunny teased.

“Bubbles, Gwanma!” He cheesed.

“I see that,” his grandmother smiled as she approached the tub.

“Did you come for his trunks?” Bulma asked as she glanced back at the dirty swimwear that was currently lying atop of the toilet seat.

“Yes, but it’s no rush, dear.”

Shaking her head, Bulma climbed to her knees before she stood, grabbing a towel from the left of her to dry her hands. “If you can finish his bath, I’ll go finish the laundry. I have a couple of things in my room I want done, too,” she requested as she gathered his trunks. “I left some clean clothes for him in his room when you’re done and if you could, try to put him down for a nap?”

Bunny smiled and knelt down by the tub, her hands immediately going for some bubbles to add to his growing bubble hat. “Okay, sweetie.”

Satisfied, Bulma left the bathroom, making her way down the hall to gather the remaining dirty clothes she had on the floor before she trudged down to the laundry room with the clothes in hand. Making her way into the small room, Bulma set the clothes on top of the drier with the rest and immediately began to sort through the lights, whites, and darks. She smiled and hummed to herself as she threw each different item of clothing into different baskets and as she grew closer to the bottom of the pile, a familiar article of clothing halted any and all movement.

She stared at it, her eyes semi-wide as she reached a trembling hand towards it, before she pulled it from amongst the bottom of the pile and immediately tears sprang to her eyes. In her hands she held _his_ spandex shorts and she clenched them tightly in her fists. Turning, she leaned her back against the drier, before she slid down into a sitting position, tears silently rolling down her cheeks.

It had been too long since she had seen him and the mystery of whether or not he was alright was beginning to bother her.

Why wouldn’t he come home?

Bulma held the pair of shorts to her chest as she cried, her head tilting back against the side of the drier as she attempted to calm her rattled nerves and again, the small voice of doubt began to whisper. She frowned.

 _He doesn’t care_ , it murmured to her. _If he did, he would’ve saved you. He would’ve saved Trunks. He doesn’t care about you. He’s not coming home._

And for just a moment, she believed the words. It had been so hard to hold on to that small spark of hope, but as time continued to pass that spark was beginning to dwindle into nothing.

And she wasn’t sure how long she could keep it burning.

_oOo_

That night, Bulma stood over the crib, her hand resting on her sons back as she watched him sleep. It had been hard to put him down. She wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a sudden aversion to sleep and loved to stay awake, no matter how tired he was. After an hour of wrestling with him, her mother came walking in with a warm cup of milk and then, not long after, the little tike was out like a light.

Bulma shook her head. Her son was so stubborn, he reminded her of herself.

“Bulma, sweetie?” her mother whispered to her from the doorway.

“Hmm?” She turned to face her mother with a questioning look.

“You should try to get some sleep, too. He’s had you running around all day, I’m sure you’re tired.”

Bulma chuckled quietly as she pushed herself away from the crib. “It’s called parenthood, something I’m still getting use to…” She followed her mother out into the hallway, making sure to leave the door cracked as she left. Just as she was making her way down the hall towards her room, she sighed exasperatedly and turned to head the other way, her mother frowning at her as she passed. “I forgot to get the clothes out of the drier,” Bulma explained.

“Bulma, those can stay there, you need rest,” her mother assured her.

“But—”

“No. I will worry about them in the morning, take yourself to bed, sweetie. I know you’re more tired than you let on,” Bunny said as she passed her and disappeared around the corner of the hall.

Bulma grumbled before she turned and began to head down the hall towards her room. Just as she was about to approach her door, she stopped and pivoted on her heels to glance down at a familiar door from across the hall.

For some reason, it didn’t feel right to sleep in her room and instead, she found herself heading for the familiar door.

She gently pushed the door open and shivered at the emptiness of the room. It had been so long since anyway had occupied this room and they way it was left was completely untouched. Bulma sighed sadly as she closed the door behind her, her eyes on the empty, made bed in the corner of the room and the next thing she knew, she was crawling into the bed, the thin sheets wrapped tightly around her body as she snuggled the lone pillow that he once use to occupy.

She never even noticed the shadowy figure that quickly passed by the window behind her.

_oOo_

He didn’t know why he was back, but after spending the last month in the woods, the comforts of a warm bed called to him… Or so he told himself.

It was late, judging by the false moon’s position in the sky, and Vegeta knew everyone in the compound was asleep. He hovered over the large building, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. It had been a long time since he had come here and he wasn’t sure if he was even welcome back.

Unfortunately, he was told that if he ever left again, he would never be welcomed back. So, why was he here?

Oh right… He had a son. An heir that he refused to leave behind.

But unfortunately, the boy’s mother also came with the package deal and if he were to stay on this miserable mudball, he would be forced to interact with the blue-haired harpy.

His left eye twitched at the thought and he turned towards the window of his room before he slowly came to a gentle land on the small balcony. At this point, he didn’t care. It had been a hell of a year and his back was killing him. Laying on the ground for over a month, he concluded, was not in the least bit comfortable and the thought of grabbing a long hot shower was exactly what he needed.

Vegeta smirked at the idea of the luxury of a shower and bed, and he threw open the balcony doors, not even giving noticing how the doors were unlocked as he stalked into his old room. He never glanced towards his bed as he began to dismantle his armor, but when he heard a soft sigh, the Prince immediately turned on his heel, his hand held up, ready to attack whatever was about to pounce, only to falter when he noticed whom was occupying his bed.

Bulma lay there, asleep, her hand curled into the sheet while the other one hugged the pillow to her body. She took up the middle of the bed, making it almost impossible for the prince to slip in and he nearly growled. How dare she come in here and sleep in _his_ bed?!

Grumbling under his breath, Vegeta glanced down at himself and frowned. Blood, dirt, and grass stains covered his uniform and he knew he smelled. He couldn’t wake her while he was in this state. He knew if he did, she wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face… either that or she would screech at him to bathe.

With that thought, Vegeta turned and headed towards the bathroom with the intent to shower and then kick the onna out.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood in there, but the scalding hot water felt good against his aching muscles and he couldn’t help but bask in its soothing abilities. When it came time to wash, the prince frowned when he wiped the cloth over a particularly sore part of his body and he nearly winced… nearly. Glancing down, Vegeta noticed a long, gaping gash across his side and from the look of it, it was infected.

When did he get that?

Shrugging, he continued to wash, uncaring of the burning sensation he felt as he passed the cloth over the wound. He was a warrior and was use to wounds such as this. He’d deal with it in the morning.

Finally, he stepped out of the shower and began to towel off, before disposing of the soiled towel. Leaving the bathroom, he made his way into the closet in the bedroom in hopes that all his clothes remained there and smirked when he found everything was as he left them. He threw on a pair of spandex shorts and then turned to the bed where the unwelcomed figure currently slept, her back now to him when she rolled over something while he was in the shower, leaving a good portion of the bed open to him.

He approached the side of the bed with the intent of throwing her out, but as he leaned over to wake her, he frowned. Her face was scrunched up, her hands were clutching his sheet tightly, and just from the look of her slightly puffy face, he could tell she had cried recently.

He sighed as he straightened. What was wrong with him?

Was he seriously considering allowing her to stay in his bed?

Vegeta’s left eye twitched once again before he decided to chalk up his sudden emotions to the fact that he was tired.

 _Really_ tired.

Instead of throwing the onna out, Vegeta pulled back the sheet and sat down, before bringing his legs up to lay down completely. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but the thought of sleep was too tempting to resist.

He knew that in the morning, she would freak out at his sudden appearance, but he didn’t care right now.

He’d deal with it in the morning.

_oOo_

_...TBC…_


	2. Chapter 1: Determination

Bulma groaned heavily as the rays of the morning sun shone through the blinds of the window above the bed. In a desperate attempt to escape the coming morning, the young scientist buried her face deeper into her pillow and snuggled closer to the warm source that was next to her, never realizing where the warmth was actually coming from. She sighed as she began to slip back into the welcoming darkness of sleep, only to be jolted awake when she felt a weight around her waist tighten a fraction and her eyes flew open in a panic. Her heart began to race when she took in her surroundings, not recognizing the room as her own, and then she glanced down to see a tanned arm wrapped possessively around her waist and the panic turned to fear.

Bulma screeched and flung herself up into a seated position, her hands now clutching the soft pillow as a weapon and she threw it against the body without a second thought repeatedly. The next thing she knew, the pillow was yanked from her faster than she could see and thrown against the wall with a resounding thud, her wrists pressed together to stop any future assault and her body now pressed to the unexpected bedmate, her eyes meeting the familiar furious onyx pair of Vegeta.

She gasped.

“V-vegeta?” she stuttered, dumbfounded.

“Who else did you expect, moron? This _is_ my room, you infuriating onna!” The prince snapped and released her hands, giving her a slight shove and he watched amusingly as she fell onto her back with a squeak, her head hitting the wall before she could catch herself.

Grumbling about his manhandling, Bulma rubbed at her head as she pushed herself back into a seated position. “Well, excuse me! I didn’t expect to see you here, you’ve been gone for over a year, jerk!”

“It is still my room, onna, which begs the question: _why are you in it?_ ” He cocked a brow curiously.

Bulma went to answer his question, but when her answer came to the front of her mind, she shut her mouth firmly and blushed lightly. The real reason she came to his room was because she was feeling lonely. She had _missed_ him and she knew that if she told him that, things would be more awkward between them then they were now.

So instead, Bulma said this, “I must’ve gotten tired after I cleaned and accidentally fell asleep on your bed.”

Vegeta’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. He knew she was lying but decided not to push the issue. As he sat up, he demanded, “Don’t make a habit of it,” before he slipped out of bed and made his way into the bathroom to wash her scent off him.

Bulma blinked after him and she frowned. Was it just her or had he been acting strange? Instead of dwelling on his behavior, Bulma climbed out of the bed and marched down the hall to the nursery to check on her son. She smiled as she made her way into the room, her baby boy sitting up in his crib waiting for her like he normally did in the morning. The moment she made presence known, Trunks beamed and stood up, his arms held up in a silent request to be let out.

“Hi, sweetie! Did you sleep okay?” Bulma asked as she lifted Trunks from his crib.

“Food!” He demanded the moment he was in his mother’s arms.

Bulma chuckled as she lifted him from his crib. “Okay, okay,” she said as she settled him on her hip. “But first we need to clean you up and change you. Today’s going to be a big day for the both of us!” She exclaimed, earning a confused look from her son as she carried him off towards the bathroom.

A big day was an understatement.

Today was going to be huge.

_oOo_

Vegeta grumbled as he sat at the head of the table. The moment he had approached the dining room, the blue-haired wench’s mother had zeroed in on him before gushing all over him in affection. Again, Vegeta wiped at his cheek with disgust in an attempt to rid himself of the feel of the dimwit’s lips. He had been completely caught off guard, the smell of the food his only focus as he waltzed in, and when the blonde ditz threw herself in his arms… well, more like his chest, was quite startling.

It took almost all of the prince’s control not to smash her head in as he peeled her off his chest and commanded that she serve him his breakfast. And with a smile, and a wink, Bunny bounced away cheerfully, happy to oblige the “sweet boy.”

And now, here he sat, his fingers tapping on top of the large table, his eyes darting back and forth taking notes of the changes to the compound. There weren’t much, but most of the changes stood out like a sore thumb. His eyes settled on the high chair that was currently sitting next to him and he frowned.

He had thought about his son often while he took refuge in the woods, the boy’s death a constant repeat in his mind and he couldn’t help but wonder what the infant version was like. He had only seen the brat once or twice since he was born, and at those times, Vegeta paid the kid little attention; the androids being his primary focus. But then, things changed.

And it started when he spent time in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber with his future son.

He hadn’t known it at the time, but it was then he allowed the teen to worm his way into Vegeta’s mind and oddly enough, his heart. There were instances when Vegeta began to realize just what was happening and when he did, he took his frustrations out on the one at fault.

Trunks.

Yet, that didn’t last long. He could remember the day when he was particularly harsh on his future son, his training more intense and fast paced, all because of the previous nights conversation. Trunks had been talking about his mother, how she had raised him alone, how she was the strongest and kindest being he knew and Vegeta could tell his son was looking for a reaction from him, and when the prince didn’t give one, Trunks had just shook his head.

But when Vegeta had gone to bed that night, his son’s words affected him more than he realized, causing him to question his place in his son’s life. Which led to the intense training, the harsh hits, the more powerful ki blasts, and Trunks took it all.

Only until Vegeta had cracked… He had screamed at the young teen to quit his yapping while calling him a mistake and his mother an imbecile… as well as a few choice words. But Vegeta wasn’t able to get far and the next thing he knew, he was waking up on the floor of the chamber, gazing up at a pair of fiery blue eyes glaring back at him, ones he was all too familiar with, and he couldn’t help but think of the onna who had given him the exact same look countless times.

He was proud that his son was able to knock him unconscious, but he was angry at allowing his emotions to get the best of him.

And when they were able to leave the chamber, Vegeta distance himself from Trunks as much as he could until that faithful day.

Witnessing his son dying was a reality check for the prince. He had come to realize something very important, something that terrified him, and it was something he knew he could escape from no longer.

He wanted to be in his son’s life, he wanted to be his son’s father.

And when he finally came to realize that important bit, Vegeta decided that returning back to the compound wasn’t a smart thing to do.

He needed time to think. So, instead of returning to a world that was familiar and comfortable, Vegeta took shelter deep in the woods, hunting, meditating, and thinking. He knew that if he returned to the compound, he wouldn’t be able to leave. He’d be giving up his “legacy” and putting the death of his people behind him. He knew he’d have to interact with the onna on his son’s behalf and that was something he wasn’t looking forward too.

After coming to terms with what he was giving up, Vegeta had finally decided to return to the compound, knowing that the path he was now choosing wasn’t going to be easy.

A sound behind Vegeta snapped him from his thoughts and he turned his head to see Bulma coming down the steps, Trunks nestled on her left hip and a block in his right hand. He stiffened and when he went to turn away, Bulma caught his eye and she smiled at him, before carrying Trunks over towards him.

Immediately Vegeta tensed even more, thinking the onna was about to _force_ him to hold his son. But when he watched as she placed him in the high chair next to his seat, he relaxed significantly and turned his gaze away before he seemed too interested in the brat.

Yet it was too late. Bulma had caught his long stare and smirked. She knew he was curious and it was just plain luck that he chose the seat right next to the high chair. She continued to strap her son into his chair and once she was done, she smoothed his now dry hair down as she greeted Vegeta.

“Good morning, Vegeta,” She said pleasantly.

He grunted in return and sat back in his chair, his fingers returning to the drumming along the tabletop impatiently as he waited for his breakfast. The aromas that wafted his way made his mouth water and he nearly forgot that his son was sitting just three feet away from him.

Bulma continued to gaze down at him, a deep frown marring her face, before she turned her gaze back to her son who was staring curiously at the strange man that was sitting next to him. He glanced up at his mother and pointed to the man, silently asking who he was and Bulma smiled gently.

“That, my sweet boy is your _Daddy_ ,” she replied in hopes of gaining a reaction from Vegeta.

It worked.

The moment she had mentioned that dreaded word, Vegeta’s gaze snapped to them both before he turned his attention to his son. His lavender hair made the prince’s lip curl in disgust and the fact that he had no tail, thanks to his mother, made his blood boil with anger. His gentle eyes, the perfect copy of his mother’s, were just that. Gentle and innocent. He couldn’t see the warrior he had spent a year in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber with in this child. And the fact that one of his small hands was currently gripping his mother’s shirt while the other held a block did not set well with Vegeta.

He would have to change that.

Vegeta watched as Bulma sauntered off towards the kitchen with a smug look, before he continued to analyze the young boy next to him. His ki, though impressive for one so young, could be so much more if he were born on Vegetasei. His weakness was another thing Vegeta would have to work on. This boy was entirely too dependent on this planet’s gravity; it had handicapped him, made him weak, and that was something Vegeta would not allow.

A small bowl of what looked like mush was set before the boy and Vegeta shook his head when Bulma placed a kiss atop the young one’s head.

That was another thing that would change; his dependency on his mother.

The woman coddled the brat entirely too much. It inhibited the boy’s ability and potential to be _better_.

When the food was finally set on the table, Vegeta forced any thoughts of change to the back of his mind as he filled his belly with a home cooked meal. He would never say it out loud, but he had missed the blonde ditz’s cooking.

“So, are you staying?” A voice asked, causing him to halt any movement.

He glanced up to see Bulma seated opposite of Trunks, a small spoon in hand as she helped to feed him, but her eyes weren’t on her son. The hope in the depths of those blue eyes made the prince swallow what he was chewing slowly and he sat up straighter, his fork clenched in his hand.

“I just… I just want to know if you plan to be around… for Trunks’ sake,” Bulma sighed as she ran a hand along Trunks’ lavender locks.

He sat quietly, his mind going over her question. It was the same question he had asked himself while he meditated in the woods. Was he going to stay? He had long since decided that he was, but now that she asked, he couldn’t help but question himself again.

But then, his eyes settled on his son whom was currently making a mess of his food, his face covered in the mush. That was enough to wash any and all doubt away. His son needed him to stay, he needed to become stronger.

So, with his head held high and a determined look in his onyx eyes, Vegeta announced, “I will not abandon my son.”

Relief was apparent as it flashed across her eyes and she nodded before they both returned to their previous tasks.

_oOo_

Vegeta sat on the edge of his bed, the sun attempting to glitter through the closed curtains, his hands clasped together, his elbows resting on his knees. He had been expecting a big outburst during breakfast, more of a large spectacle from the onna about him being gone for nearly a year, leaving her to tend to their son, but when he received only gentle questioning, he was surprised to say the least.

Immediately after breakfast, the first thing the prince wanted to do was train, but he stopped himself. What did he have to train for now? He wasn’t leaving for space anymore, he wasn’t going to be able to retrieve his throne and take over the universe like he had once hoped to do, the androids were long gone, and Kakkarot was dead. The challenges he had always wanted to face were no longer in his reach, so what did he have to train for?

His jaw twitched and he turned his body so that he was lying on the bed, his one arm resting above his head with his hand dangling off the edge and the other resting on his stomach. Was he supposed to take this time to relax? How was he supposed to do that?

Relaxing was never a part of his life and it made him somewhat uncomfortable to think that now; he had the time and luxury to just lay there on the bed and not worry.

No, that’s wrong.

He had something to train for, something to worry over…

He had to train for his son, to prepare to train his son.

Now, he knew Trunks was too young, so he would wait, and he would use that time to train himself.

Only after he took a nap first…

_oOo_

Bulma trudged up the steps, occasionally bending over to pick up a few straggling toys here and there as she made her way down the hall towards her room. It had been an odd day. She only saw Vegeta at breakfast before he announced that he was going to train and disappeared outside. But when she went out to check on him, the simulator’s light was off and no one was inside.

She had been hoping that he would stick around the compound with the intent to get to know their son, so when he disappeared for the rest of the day Bulma was met with disappointment. Was she expecting too much of him on his first day back? She didn’t crowd him at breakfast and only asked if he was going to stay, to which he had replied that he wouldn’t abandon their son.

“Ouch!” Bulma cried as she lifted a foot to see a lone red car on the floor and she grumbled as she picked it up.

To be perfectly honest, laying underneath her worries and doubts, she couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen between them now that he had decided he was going to stay. To say she didn’t miss him was a lie and she could tell that he didn’t believe her when she said she had just miraculously fallen asleep in his room. But what could she say to him? That she missed him, wanted him back, and sought out his room for comfort?

Things were already awkward between them, what with how they left things when they last saw each other. That thought caused Bulma to wince. It was stupid of her to go to the battlefield with her son and though she still felt hurt that he never caught her when she fell, she couldn’t help but place the blame on her shoulders. She finally took the time to get over her betrayal, but still, the bitter feeling occasionally reared its ugly head.

Yet, it didn’t change how she felt about him. Once upon a time, Bulma clung to the man when she realized her feelings were deep and that only lead to him escaping to space. It wouldn’t be like that this time. It made her stomach churn just to think how she once acted around him, like an emotional out-of-control teen in love.

No, she would make sure this time would be different.

As she continued to pick up the last few toys that lay scattered about, Bulma vowed to herself that she wouldn’t chase after the prince like a lapdog in heat.

This time, she wanted him to come to her.

_oOo_

_…TBC…_


	3. Chapter 2: Come and Get Me

A month passed since Vegeta’s return and to Bulma’s disappointment, things returned to normal. He continued his training, attended meals regularly, and returned to avoiding her. Her initial decision to have him come to her wasn’t exactly working out like she had hoped, but then again, it had only been a month and she told herself that she couldn’t expect much within that short amount of time. It was Vegeta after all.

After giving herself that pep-talk, Bulma acted as if everything was fine. She gave him his space, but as the weeks went by with him also avoiding their son, she decided that it was time for a change. She knew that for him, staying for his son was a big step, but after allowing him to adjust back to his “normal” life at Capsule Corp for the last few weeks without any interaction with their son was beginning to anger her.

He always kept his head down at meals and whenever they passed each other in the hall, it almost seemed like his pace would quicken just to get away from her. She wasn’t sure what she did or why it seemed like he was avoiding her, but avoiding their son was downright baffling. Trunks was the reason he was staying, so why was he acting odd?

Bulma eyed him as she fed Trunks another small piece of her pancakes (even though he had already finished his breakfast). His head, as usual, was lowered; his sole focus on his meal. She knew he knew she was watching him, and she could tell just from his body language it was annoying him. He was tense, his grip on his fork was straining to the point the utensil was near bending, and that one lone muscle in his jaw twitched ever few seconds. But she wasn’t going to give in. She was tired of being ignored; she was tired of her son being ignored. If anything, he would be acknowledged even if she wouldn’t be.

Sensing the tense atmosphere at the table, Bunny glanced between Vegeta and Bulma before she stood and took Trunks in her arms, murmuring to Bulma that she was going to take him for his swimming lesson and Bulma nodded, giving her son a small smile as he waved back at her before she returned to her heated glaring.

Throughout the rest of breakfast, she continued to throw icy glances Vegeta’s way, occasionally making long exhale noises and even scrapping her fork across her plate just a tad too hard with the knowledge that the noise would affect his sensitive hearing. She smirked as she glanced up from her plate to see his jaw twitching again, his eyes shut tight and as she exhaled again, he snapped.

“Must you be so fucking annoying, onna?!” Vegeta snarled, his bent fork being slammed onto the table in his anger, immediately straightening the utensil.

Bulma blinked innocently at him. “Oh, so I exist now? I thought with the way you’ve been taking off so quickly and not speaking to me that I, apparently, wasn’t real to you,” she said bitingly.

His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. You haven’t said barely two words to me since you’ve been back and on top of it all, you’re ignoring Trunks! I thought he was the reason you’re staying, so why are you acting like he doesn’t exist?!” Bulma glared at him, her plate pushed away from her so she could rest her elbows on the table in a challenge.

“I am not ignoring my son,” Vegeta defended as he leaned forward in response to her silent challenge.

Bulma scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me, Vegeta. Tell me, when was the last time you stayed in the same room with him for more than five minutes?” When he opened his mouth to defend himself she cut him off. “When did you acknowledge him as your son? When did you say _anything_ to him? When did you hold him? When was the last time you _looked_ at him?”

Again, the muscle in Vegeta’s jaw twitched and he took a deep breath before leaning back into his chair, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose harshly. The damn onna had no idea what she was talking about. He had an interest in his son! Just because he wasn’t fawning over the brat didn’t mean anything. The reason he wasn’t around much was because he was preparing to train the boy, couldn’t she see that?

Vegeta cracked an eye open to see Bulma was still ranting and raving, her arms now flailing about and what little patience the prince had diminished. He slammed a hand on top of the table, causing all the dishes to jump and clang together, immediately hushing the onna as she jolted in surprise.

“What do you want from me you infuriating wench? I have told you I would stay for him, I am preparing to train him to become a warrior, what more do you want from me?” He snapped.

Bulma shook her head in astonishment. “I want you to at least acknowledge him, Vegeta! Stop acting like he’s invisible and start realizing that he’s real!”

“I am not going to baby him like you! My son is a warrior and will be treated as such! The way you cater to him is an insult to my race! He is capable of feeding himself; he is capable of walking himself! When I was his age, I could wipe my own ass, change my own clothes, and manipulate my ki! I had already made my first kill! You are holding him back!”

“My baby will not be a monster like you; I’ll make sure of it!” Bulma said before she could stop herself, and her eyes widened at her words before she slapped a hand over her lips in shock.

Vegeta sat there silently; his icy stare boring into her shocked and apologetic gaze.

“Oh Kami, Vegeta, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Bulma began, only to stop when he held a hand up, his head turning away from her.

“Don’t,” He said simply, before he pushed his chair back and stood.

“Vegeta, wait,” she pleaded when he turned to leave the room.

He turned back to her with a look she thought she would never see.

Hurt.

He was hurt by her words and Bulma mentally slapped herself for her stupidity.

“I didn’t mean it the way it came out…” She began, her hand held out in a silent apology.

Vegeta shook his head. “No, you’re right,” his hands fisted before he gave in and sat back down. “He won’t be like me. He’ll be better.”

They both sat at the table in silence, neither knowing what exactly to say. Bulma sighed and rested her chin on top of her clasped hands as she gazed sadly at the man next to her.

“I can’t do this by myself,” she began. His head twitched her way and she turned her stare to the table top. “It may not seem like it, Vegeta, but I do need you. _He_ needs you…” She sighed before leaning back in her chair. “I just want him to know his father.”

Vegeta sat there, absorbing what she said. It wasn’t a declaration of love (thank kami) nor was it an _I-need-to-be-with-you_ plea. The way she spoke was like she didn’t expect anything to happen between them, she was just asking him to be _present_.

And for some unknown reason, Vegeta respected her request.

He tilted his head forward and exhaled. “I’m not going anywhere, Bulma. You know this.”

She nodded, her mouth twitching at the rare use of her name. “I know…”

Vegeta closed his eyes. They way she said that almost sounded disbelieving. Why did he want to change that? Why did he want her to believe him? What was wrong with him? Once upon a time, he could’ve cared less what she thought of him, but now, it bothered him that she didn’t believe him.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and murmured defeated, “What do you want me to do?”

Bulma met his glance with one of her own and shrugged. “You say you were preparing to train him…? Why not teach him how to swim?”

Vegeta’s brow furrowed. “You mean to tell me that the brat doesn’t know how to swim yet?”

Why was he not surprised?

Bulma shook her head with a slight smile. “We’ve been working with him for a few weeks now, but with the way my schedule is, I haven’t been able to take him everyday like I had originally wanted too. My mom’s been helping me with it when I can’t take him.”

She nearly coughed a laugh at the horror on his face.

“You are letting that ditz of a woman teach our son how to swim?” Vegeta stood and began to head towards the rec hall.

Bulma watched him go and with a knowing smile, she called after him. “Where are you going?”

He snarled over his shoulder, “To teach my son how to swim _properly_!”

_oOo_

Bulma couldn’t resist. It was the first time he was going to be with his son since he had been born and she wanted to be present for it. Shortly after he left, she programmed the cleaning bots to take care of the table before she followed after him, her feet quickly carrying her down the long corridor that led to the rec department. It had been quite a while since she felt giddy and knowing that father and son were going to be spending some “quality” time together had her heart racing with excitement.

After several turns, a few swipes of her ID badge, and more turns and doors opening, Bulma finally made it to the locker room, where she quickly ran through to gain access to the swimming pool area. Just as she was about to open the door, she abruptly stepped back in surprise as her mother walked through, a bright smile on her face.

“Oh honey! There you are!”

Bulma chuckled. “Yeah, I was just coming to see Vegeta teach Trunks how to swim.”

Bunny giggled and patted her daughter on the shoulder. “Oh that man! The moment he came barging in, he said he was going to take over. He’s such a good father, wanting to teach his son how to swim,” she giggled again and began walking away. Before she left, she turned back and said with bright eyes, “Don’t forget to take some pictures of them!”

Bulma shook her head as she watched her mother leave. How was she supposed to take pictures of them when she didn’t have a camera? And at this point, it wasn’t worth running back to the main part of the compound for the piece of equipment. She wanted to see for herself how Vegeta would act around his son.

Turning back to the door, she cracked it open and peered through, a smile appearing as she watched as Vegeta stood over their son, a stern look on his face as he spoke to the boy. She glanced down at Trunks, whom looked confused as he gazed up at the man and Bulma sighed sadly. She had hoped that by now, Trunks would know more about Vegeta, and all she could see in his gaze as he stared as his father was the word stranger. And unfortunately, that’s what Vegeta was to him.

But not for long, she decided.

After observing the two for a few more seconds, Bulma stepped through the door and made her way over to the pair. Trunks tilted his head around his father’s legs curiously, earning an irritated growl from the prince at the distraction, before a smile broke out on his little face and he screamed in excitement, “MOMMA!”

Bulma smiled back and gave a small wave at Vegeta who turned to glare at her.

“How’s my big boy doing?” She said cheerfully as she stepped to Vegeta’s side, who took one step away from her and she nearly frowned at him.

“Swim, Momma!”

“I see, baby! Is your Daddy teaching you to swim?” Bulma smirked as Vegeta tensed, his form screaming with his displeasure at the term “Daddy.”

“I’ve already told the boy to address me as Father, not that ridiculous word,” he snarled and Bulma’s smirk immediately turned into a deep, disapproving frown.

“Oh come on, Vegeta, he’s a baby, and that’s what you are to him!”

“I refuse to be called by that… that… human term!”

“ _Human term?!_ Then what is Father?!”

“It demands respect unlike that horrid of a word and I refuse to allow my son to call me that!”

“Ooohh, well, you just listen here…”

Trunks gazed at his parents as they continued to argue, his little self clearly forgotten as the two verbally battled it out. Soon, this form of entertainment began to bore him and he glanced behind him at the large rectangle of water before he waddled into a standing position and began to make his way over to the edge of the pool. He was here to swim and had yet to even get into the pool and he decided it was high time to jump in.

Toddling past his parents, Trunks gazed at the shimmering surface with excitement before he took one small step back and leapt in without his floaters, and frowned when he started to sink to the bottom of the pool. Strange, why wasn’t he floating? Every other time he got in, he always floated.

His eyes widened a fraction when his little butt bumped against the bottom of the pool, but instead of panicking, Trunks smiled brightly and clapped his hands, treating the situation as if it were a game of hide and seek. He glanced up toward the surface of the pool and waited to see which one of his parents would find him first.

“—and it is for weaklings! I am not a weakling!” Vegeta spat, a vein pulsating in his forehead as he continued to argue with the onna.

“It is not for weaklings, Vegeta! That is ludicrous! Look at Goku—” she began to say only to have Vegeta cut her off with harsh laughter.

“Kakkarot? He would be the type of third class dog to have his son call him… Daddy,” he spat the word and shuddered with disgust.

Bulma rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to defend her friend, but when her eyes trailed away from Vegeta to where Trunks would’ve been, any words she would’ve said died on her lips as she frantically searched the area for her child.

“Vegeta, where’s Trunks?!”

The prince blinked and glance down only to see the boy was no longer sitting at his feet, but had somehow wondered off without him knowing. He glanced around the large room once, before he closed his eyes and concentrated and not a second later, his eyes snapped to the pool, Bulma’s following his gaze, her heart racing with the confirmed knowledge that her son was in fact at the bottom of the pool.

“Oh shit…” She started to say, and she watched as Vegeta quickly dove into the pool, her hands buried in her hair as she began to wonder just how long her son had been down there.

Seconds later, the Saiya-jin Prince emerged with their son cradled in his arms, the young boy coughing and wiping at his eyes as he breathed in sweet air.

“Oh my Kami, I thought I was going to have a heart attack!” Bulma said as she knelt at the edge of the pool with her arms stretched outward for the boy.

Vegeta wiped at his face, before he absentmindedly brushed his son’s hair back away from his eyes and patted the boys back as he coughed up water and Bulma watched in awe. Instead of reaching out for him like she intended, she folded her arms on top of her knees, her eyes taking in how the harsh Prince checked over the young boy and she could feel a slight smile pull at her lips.

In the very depth of his eyes, buried deep and almost concealed, Bulma could see the worry. She could see how affected his was by this one incident and she couldn’t help but wonder what had caused him to change and silently thanked whatever god was responsible for those changes.

Even though he would deny it, he did care.

Vegeta continued to pat his son on the back until his coughing subsided, his mind racing and his eyes distant. How was the brat able to slip by him without him realizing it? It left the Prince feeling disconcerted. He was normally at his prime with his senses and sharp with awareness, but the fact that a small child, his heir, was able to wander on by him without him even flinching was unsettling.

“Is he okay?” Bulma’s soft voice shook the prince from his thoughts and he glanced up to the onna who teetered on the edge of the pool, her arms crossed at her knees as she gazed at them both with gentle concern.

Grunting, Vegeta swam towards the edge and lifted the brat out of the pool and into his mother’s awaiting arms, before he too climbed out wordlessly. She took little Trunks in her arms, watching as her former lover ringed out his flattened mane, surprised that he didn’t even make a complaint towards his wet clothing. She then turned to her son, who was gazing at her with a small smile, completely unfazed by the situation and she shook her head.

“You can’t do that again, Trunks,” she said sternly, “You scared Mommy and Daddy.” At those words, his small smile vanished, replace with wobbling lips, a trembling chin, and shinny, tear-filled eyes. Bulma sighed and rubbed his back, her body subconsciously swaying from side to side. “It’s okay, baby, don’t cry.”

Vegeta watched them as he continued to ring out his wet clothes and hair, his mouth twitching at her use of the word _daddy_ , but he decided not to say anything. He suddenly felt out of place as he watched the onna sway their son from side to side in a soothing manner and couldn’t help but to feel like he didn’t belong in this picture.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Vegeta cleared his throat and Bulma turned her attention to him, her eyes wide and trusting.

“I’ll teach the boy how to swim later,” he said, before he turned to leave.

“Vegeta wait…”

He stopped and turned to glance back, his brow cocked with what seemed like impatience, but Bulma could tell differently now.

“Thank you,” she said simply with a small smile.

He stood there for a second, shocked by her gratitude, before he tilted his head, turned, and left the room before any more disasters happened.

Bulma and Trunks watched the man go before they both exchanged looks and she smiled at him.

“I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever scared your Daddy, baby,” she said, her smile brightening.

_oOo_

After putting Trunks down, Bulma walked out of the nursery, her hand massaging her one shoulder to release the tension as she made her way down towards the kitchen, her mind on one thing and one thing only. It had been a long day, with the arguments she had with Vegeta, to her son jumping into the pool without either of them knowing, Bulma had decided she needed to loosen up.

She wanted a beer.

Making her way into the kitchen, she opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle and expertly popped the cap before tossing the piece of metal into the trash can as she made her way outside to the patio. She took a swig of the dark liquid before seating herself in one of the chairs, sighing as she reclined herself so she could gaze at the night sky.

She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there, but an unexpected movement to her left had the young scientist jolting in surprise as a shadow brushed by her. Her eyes were wide as she turned to see what it was, only to exhale deeply at the sight of Vegeta reclining in the chair next to her, his eyes on the night sky above.

“Funny meeting you here,” Bulma teased as she took another swig of her drink.

Without glancing at her, the prince retorted, “I can’t help it that you are so unaware of your surroundings onna.” Finally, he turned his dark onyx gaze on her and with a hint of humor, he added, “I’d suggest you work on that, but it’d only be a waste of my breath.”

Gasping, Bulma glared at him. “Are you insinuating that I can’t?”

He chuckled. “Of course not. I’m just saying you’re so weak that by the time anyone does sneak up on you, you’d probably already be dead.”

Again, Bulma gasped, but this time, it was in surprise. He was teasing her! She glanced down at the bottle that was currently clutched in her hand and wondered how many had she had for this to have taking place, because surely it couldn’t be real, but she reminded herself that this was her first one of the night and she was anything but a light weight.

She shook her head when he turned his attention back to the night sky and they fell into a comfortable silence.

As Bulma began to reach the end of her drink, the noise of the liquid sloshing up the sides had Vegeta’s ears twitching and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes with annoyance. “My Kami, onna, you are the only one in the whole universe who drinks loud! Just finish it off and be done with it!”

Bulma chuckled and swirled the small contents of the bottle and said, “But I’m savoring it. I don’t get to drink often, but when I do, I like to enjoy it.”

Vegeta sniffed silently. “What is that beverage?”

With the bottle close to her lips, Bulma went to finish it off, only to stop as she answered, “Its beer.”

She went to take her last sip, but Vegeta’s question stopped her. “What’s beer?”

Blinking, Bulma’s brow furrowed. “ _What’s beer?_ You’ve never had beer before?”

“If I knew what it was, you infuriating woman, I wouldn’t be asking!”

“It’s delicious, is what it is,” she said with a smirk. “Its alcohol… Wanna try?” She tilted the bottle in his direction, offering what little was left for him to try.

He eyed the bottle as if it were an enemy he was scouting, before his shoulders sagged and he gave into temptation. He reached for the bottle and finished off its contents, surprised at the bitter yet slightly chocolate aftertaste to it. He handed the bottle back to her with a nod of approval and she smirked.

“Want me to get you a bottle? I’m gonna go grab myself another,” she offered as she stood from the chair. Without waiting for his answer, she bounced back into the kitchen, returning several minutes later with a large bowl filled with ice and several dark bottles chilling. She sat the bowl down between them and took a seat, her arms reaching for a bottle and she popped the cap and handed it to Vegeta with a smile before doing the same for herself.

With a smirk, she said, “Now you have to catch up to me.” She took a swig of the beer and chuckled at his confused look. “I’m a beer ahead of you!”

He cocked a brow and murmured huskily, “Is that a challenge, onna?”

Suddenly, Bulma felt flushed with the way he was gazing at her, his brow cocked, amusement playing in his eyes, and something else… maybe desire? Or maybe it was just the beer playing with her head, but whatever it was, the comfortable companionship they fell into at that moment was something she didn’t want to ruin.

Yet, she couldn’t help but whisper flirtatiously, “What if it is?”

Vegeta eyed her up and down, the conversation suddenly taking a turn from beer chugging to something completely different. He took a long swig of his beer and she watched as he finished the entire bottle off before he tossed it aside and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He then looked back at her as he reached for another, and he popped the cap with his thumb before he took a small sip.

“I’m not behind anymore,” he stated obviously.

Bulma nodded, unsure of what to say, her sole focus now on the familiar aching feeling of arousal. She couldn’t help but to think of how long it had been and her mind began to play images of the last time they had each other; how he felt above her, moving over her, moving _inside_ her, and she nearly forgot about her decision of having him come to her.

She took one more swig of her drink before she sat it down next to the chair and stood with her eyes on the man next to her. He watched as she walked the short distance between their chairs, his brow somewhat furrowed at what she was about to do and he could tell where this was going. His mind had screamed at him to stop this, to leave. He had told himself that when he came back to the compound, he was never coupling with the onna again, but now that this moment was here and she was now _straddling_ him, he forgot why he fought with himself over this.

Bulma placed her hands on his shoulders before she slid them down the planes of his chest, feeling the muscles through the thin fabric of his tank. Kami, how she remembered those muscles rippling as he thrusted and moved over her, and she wanted to feel that again… right now.

Her eyes wandered down the trail her hands took, before she leaned forward, her face inches from him and she could feel his warm breath and smirked at how elevated his breathing was. He was affected too.

She ghosted her lips across his, before she trailed them along his jaw, and then down the length of his neck, smirking when he tilted his head just slightly and she moaned when his hands came up to clutch at her hips to bring them forward in a grinding motion. She nipped and suckled along the skin of his neck, her hands inching there way under his shirt to play along the waistline of his spandex pants, a finger slipping teasingly underneath the fabric and she pulled.

Bulma pulled away from his neck, earning a growl from the man beneath her, and she grinded her hips down onto his erection, his growl turning into a groan. She smirked smugly, her hips shifting in circles and she whispered, “Do you want me, Vegeta?”

He blinked at her through his lusty haze and dug the tips of his fingers into her hips, bringing her forward to nip her bottom lip. She pulled away from him slightly and shook her head, her nails scratching down his chest to the waistband of his spandex pants.

“Tell me… Do you want me?”

Vegeta growled and snarled out, “Yes!”

Bulma smirked and leaned forward, and kissed him deeply, her tongue battling his before she yanked at his bottom lip with her teeth. She sat up, her smirk now a full blown grin as she stated with a challenge in her eyes.

“Then come and get me,” and with that, she pulled his hands off her hips, stood, leaned down to grab her still full beer and walked back into the compound without looking back, her hips swaying a bit with confidence.

Vegeta watched her go, his eyes wide, baffled, and somewhat confused before he sighed with frustration and slammed his head back against the chair. Then, he turned his accusing gaze to his still throbbing erection and cursed.

Damn, that clever onna.

_oOo_

_…TBC…_


	4. Chapter 3: Obstacles

He growled.

He had never allowed himself to do this and now that the opportunity was presented to him, he couldn’t help but give in.

Gripping his mug tightly, near to the point of shattering the fragile object, Vegeta’s jaw twitched as he watched the onna from across the room, her back turned to him as she leaned over the table in a very appealing position with a pen in her mouth and a series of what seemed like blueprints scattered about the table top. He couldn’t help but to allow his eyes roam her figure and appreciate the way her shorts fitted her round bottom perfectly, the shortness of the denim apparel accentuating her milky long legs, making them seem like they went on for miles. Images of those legs being wrapped tightly around his waist, clenching him in ecstasy flashed across his mind and he forced himself to blink and turn away from the inviting sight.

It was unlike him to stand there and gawk. But ever since she had straddled him two nights ago and then left him high and dry with a challenge lingering in the air in her wake, he couldn’t help himself. And it annoyed him to no end. He was not the type of person to chase after women. _They_ were the ones who _came to him_. He was a prince after all and he couldn’t help it if women flocked his way. Why should he blame them?

But now… the tables were turned.

He heard movement from the dining room and glanced back to see Bulma stretched across the table as she proceeded to write something down on one of the blueprints and the sight caused Vegeta to lick his lips and tilt his head a bit. Her shirt had rode up to reveal the smoothness of her back, her shorts slipping some to show the tempting skin of her hips and he noticed a purple string of her undergarments peaking out and immediately his thoughts turned from mildly erotic to dark and dirty.

Bulma straightened, causing Vegeta to tense and turn away quickly to gaze out the window with a look of disinterest and he could feel the onna’s eyes on his person, but he made no move to meet her gaze. Tilting the mug, he downed the rest of the contents before putting it beside the sink and he left the kitchen, and the temptation, behind.

He needed to escape.

He needed to train.

Bulma watched him go out the side door before she turned back to her blueprints with a frown. She had been hoping he would’ve walked up behind her and done _something_ , but for a moment, she forgot how stubborn that Saiya-jin was and now knew that this was going to be harder than she originally anticipated. Sighing, she gathered up her old blueprints from the original simulator and rolled each of them up before heading down the hall to swipe her ID badge to gain access to the company part of the compound. There, she made her way down the long corridor towards the archives where she put the blueprints away.

It was going to take more than a tempting position, old blueprints, and her short shorts to get him to make a move.

She may be a genius, but trying to figure out how to get Vegeta to make a move on her was a tough one to solve. Yet, she couldn’t help but scold herself for using the moves that would’ve _and_ have worked on Yamcha before. Vegeta was not Yamcha. He didn’t fall for the seductive _“Oh I didn’t know you were there,”_ moves. And a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if he had figured out if she was actually doing that or if he was just being plain stubborn and refused to approach her.

It was mind boggling.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Bulma wandered down the hall, her eyes trained on the floor as she contemplated another plan. She grimaced when she bit her lip a little too hard and sighed exasperatedly. Obviously this was going to take some time and a lot more thought.

 _Oh well_ , she smirked. _At least it’ll be fun._

Or so she thought.

_oOo_

“Bulma, dear?” Dr. Briefs asked from the doorway of Bulma’s private office. Even though the day had just begun, it had been a hectic start. Recently, the head of the Department of Research had passed away suddenly, leaving the whole department in an aftermath of chaos as they tried to run themselves while Dr. Briefs and Bulma searched for a replacement and so far, they were unsuccessful.

“Hmm?” Bulma glanced up from the sheets of paper that were currently scattered among her desk to her father who was now in front of her desk with a stack of manila folders piled high in his arms. She leaned back as he sat the heavy load onto her desk with a huff and she eyed the tower with a wary glance. “Please tell me this is the only stack I have to go through…” she pleaded as she grabbed the first folder off the top and began to leaf through it.

Her father shook his head as he rubbed his aching back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we have another three or four stacks. I have my own to go through as well.”

Bulma licked the tips of her fingers when the pages began to stick together and she scanned the resume of an elderly gentleman professor who taught at an esteem college, his background specialties were impressive, but not exactly what Bulma was hoping for. She leaned back in her chair, tossing the resume aside with a grunt of disapproval. “So, how many overall?”

“Well…” Dr. Briefs began hesitantly as he stared at the ceiling, doing a mental count in his head before he muttered, “roughly eight thousand… or so.”

Bulma’s eyes grew wide. “Eight thousand applicants? I thought we had a cutoff limit!”

He nodded. “We normally do, but desperate times call for desperate measures and we _really_ need our department head. We would’ve had more too if we hadn’t closed down the ad.” He chuckled when his daughter’s shocked look turned almost horrified at the thought of going through eight thousand resumes. “Don’t worry. You and I are only going through the ones that the Executives below feel are adequate.”

She let out a sigh of relief as she grabbed for the next resume. “And how many is that?”

“Five hundred.”

Well, that was better than eight thousand, she reasoned with herself.

Letting out a long breath, Bulma reached for another folder and her father smiled at her apologetically before he turned and left her office. She eyed the short list of skills of the one in her hand before muttering a curse and tossing it aside.

It was going to be a long day indeed.

_oOo_

Vegeta growled as he marched down the long corridor, a large round object hanging from his hand and a series of metal parts currently falling from said object. From behind him, he could hear a series of curses and a screech as a loud thud echoed down the hall, the scattering of papers in the air flapping down towards the floor from a collision he didn’t witness, but heard. He smirked as he rounded the corner.

Approaching the elevator, he eyed the small space with obvious disdain as he climbed into it, his finger roughly pressing the number for the floor he needed to go to and he began to breath heavily. He hated enclosed spaces and the longer he was in the elevator, the more agitated he became. His jaw twitched when the contraption stopped on another floor and he glared at the male human who was about to climb in, but one look from the intimidating man in the elevator, he thought better of it and muttered out “I’ll just get the next one…” before he stepped back and starred at the floor.

Vegeta pressed the button for the doors to close and stepped back, his back leaning against the wall as he closed his eyes and breathed evenly. He had spent countless years in his small spacecraft flying to numerous planets, the trip sometimes taking months just to arrive. So why would a five minute elevator ride bother him so much?

Finally, he heard a ding and an electronic voice calling out “Floor 52”, and once the doors opened, he stepped off quickly and breathed a sigh of relief. After several turns and the few glances in open offices, Vegeta arrived and he dropped the round metal object on the desk.

Bulma squeaked and jumped back in her chair as the object thudded on her desk and, as she caught her breath, she glanced up to meet the glare of Vegeta.

_Oh hell, what now?_

“Vegeta, what an unpleasant surprise to see you,” She stated with a sweet smile as she sat forward. “What the fuck is on my desk and…” she glanced to the side to see a fluid leaking out of one of the open compartments and she screeched as she frantically began to move the stack of papers that was next to the object. “Why the fuck is it leaking?!”

He shrugged. “It must’ve started on the way up here,” he said casually. “You need to fix it.”

She sighed as she set the stack of papers on a shelf on the other side of the room. “I don’t have the time to fix your toys, Vegeta. I’m working! And now I need to call maintenance to clean my fucking desk, which is going to prolong my fucking day, thanks to you!” She leaned over her desk and hit a series of buttons on a pad to call for a crew and Vegeta took notice to the low neckline of her shirt and the delicious dip of her cleavage. When she straightened, he quickly averted his gaze and morphed it into a scowl.

“Make the time, onna! This damn thing is your invention, I demand you to fix it!”

She blinked as she glanced at the rubble that was currently falling apart on her desk.

_I built that piece of shit?_

“What is it?”

Vegeta chuckled and crossed his arms. “It’s a bot.”

Her eyes widened as she took in the broken bot on her desk, now recognizing certain parts she used to build it and her face turned red with anger. “You broke my bot and beat it so bad that I couldn’t even recognize it!! What the fuck, Vegeta?!”

Again, he shrugged. He seemed to be doing a lot of that around her lately. “It is not my fault your inventions are so cheaply made.”

Bulma took a deep breath and glanced at the clock before sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. She didn’t have time for this. Giving Vegeta a glance, she knew that if she argued over the broken bot, she’d lose. He was determined and she didn’t have the time to argue over a lunk of metal. It looked like another long night for her.

Then an idea struck.

She smirked devilishly.

“Fine, I’ll fix the bot,” she said simply, and Vegeta smirked victoriously before he turned to leave. He was halted when she spoke again. “But, it’s going to take me most of the night, and I can’t start now, I have too much else to do. And if I’m up all night, I’m going to be rubbish tomorrow, which means Trunks will be rubbish tomorrow,” she hinted and watched with amusement as Vegeta tensed.

“Then get your mother to watch the brat,” He turned to eye her suspiciously.

“No,” she approached him, her arms crossed as she met his gaze with her own. “See, this is what happens when you have a kid, Vegeta. You need to take some responsibility and when I can’t take care of him, you need too.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off quickly. “And if I’m going to be up all night fixing your precious training equipment, then you need to do me a favor too,” she smiled sweetly. “Just think of it like I scratch your back you scratch mine kind of deal!”

He furrowed his brow in confusion. What the hell did back scratching have anything to do with this?

“Your mother can watch the boy perfectly fine,” he argued.

Bulma cocked a brow. “Okay, if that’s how you want to be, then it’s going to take me a week to fix it.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened in horror. “That is absolutely unacceptable, onna! I demand you fix them tonight!”

Calmly, Bulma sat back down in her chair and crossed her legs, her gaze smiling and twinkling at Vegeta’s outburst. “No. I told you, I have work to do and it’s more important than your stupid equipment. I tried to compromise with you, but if you don’t want to work with me, then you’re going to have to wait until I do have time.”

Vegeta growled as his eyes, for a brief moment, traveled over her long legs, the black skirt she was wearing accentuating both the length of her legs and the fairness of her skin. He heard a soft chuckle of amusement and immediately averted his eyes, knowing she had caught him looking.

The damn onna knew exactly what she was doing.

He gritted his teeth. “Can’t you find someone else to do your work?”

She snorted. “No, that’d be like asking someone to be prince in your stead. It just isn’t possible. No one is qualified to do what I do. You know what I want, either take my offer and get your bots by tomorrow, or wait the week.” She smiled. “I’m sure my mom can entertain you when you get bored, she adores you, ya know!”

Again, his eyes widened a fraction and he sputtered out, “Fine, I’ll watch the damn brat!” Before he turned and waltzed out the room, throwing over his shoulders, “Have my bot ready and in the simulator by morning!”

She watched him go and sighed, his frustrating attitude both irritating and a turn on for her.

 _Jerk_ , she thought as a cleanup crew knocked on her doorframe before pulling a cart into her office.

Immediately, the two men set out to clean her desk, both attempting to lift the heavy bot and place it on a dolly with the intent to take it to the dumpster, but Bulma stopped them.

“No, I need that!” She said quickly as she leaned forward.

They both stopped and glanced at her. “But ma’am… It’s leaking and broken and—“

She shook her head. “I don’t care, I need it. Take it to my lab please.”

The two men shared a look before shrugging and doing as she said.

Bulma let out a long breath as she rested her elbows on her now clean desk, her eyes landing on the pile of resumes she had yet to leaf through.

_Maybe I should start making calls…_

_oOo_

As promised, Bulma used the night to fix the bot and had it towed to the simulator. Shortly afterward, she had knocked on Vegeta’s door to remind him about their deal and surprisingly, he wasn’t in his room. She had frowned before making her way down the hall to see the nursery door slightly ajar and Vegeta hovering over a crying Trunks, one hand plugging his nose while the other attempted to unwrap his son’s diaper. She slapped a hand over her mouth to prevent the laugh that bubbled up in the pits of her stomach from escaping.

Instead of interrupting, Bulma went to her room—after lingering near the nursery door for several more minutes—and wrote a small note. She then went back down the hall and tapped said note to Vegeta’s door with the message that his bot was in the simulator before retiring for the next few hours.

Now here she was, lying in her bed hours later, her head buried beneath several pillows, her alarm blaring and she moaned. Five hours of sleep was not enough, she determined as she raised her hand to slap the snooze button with abuse for the third time. Sighing, she buried her face back in the cool welcoming embrace of her pillows, her mind hazing with sleep, before she growled when a light tapping sounded at her door.

“Bulma, dear?” her father’s voice carried from beyond the wood. “You have several interviews set up today, you need to get up.”

She whined childishly and when her father tapped again, she snapped, “I’m up!” before flopping back down on the pillow with an aggravated sigh.

She should’ve scheduled those interviews for the following day, but with the way things were, the Research Department wasn’t going to run itself. The need for a department head was urgent and with no department head meant more hours for the heiress to work. And with those thoughts bearing down on her mind, she sat up and dressed for the day, slipping into a pair of black slacks before topping her outfit off with a black and white pinstriped vest top that buttoned. She smoothed her collar down before gathering her hair and twirling it into a bun, securing it with two black chopsticks. She slapped on a bit of makeup and then stepped back to give herself a “once over,” before leaving for the day.

_oOo_

“Thank you for your time, Miss Briefs, I look forward to hearing from you,” the gentleman said when they both stood with smiles on their faces, their hands extended to shake. Bulma watched the elderly man leave before her smile slipped into a frown and she slumped into her chair with a heavy sigh. The man was more than qualified, his skills as well as his background were impressive; however the amount of time the man would need to have off due to medical issues had Bulma’s head hurting. She couldn’t risk hiring the elderly man. She needed someone healthier…

Glancing at the clock, she noticed she had only a few minutes until her next interview, so she began to clear off her desk, replacing folders and pads with new ones. She opened up the new folder to acquaint herself with the next interviewee’s background, skimming over the paper briefly before a _tap tap_ sounded at her door. She stood with a smile, the folder left open on her desk as her secretary opened the door to let the next one in and Bulma’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.

The man wore a bright smile when he stepped into the office, his eyes were a dark midnight blue and they were deep. They reflected the light of the room, giving the impression that stars shimmered in his eyes. His brown hair hung over his face just enough to give it the ruffled bed look; his toned shoulders fit the suit he wore perfectly. He was tall and slim and the closer he got, the more she noticed the slight stubble on his face. When he bent down to set his briefcase next to the chair, she noticed a dark freckle just below his ear.

He was _gorgeous_.

She blinked out of her trance and plastered a smile on her face before taking his expectant hand in hers and shaking it, her breath catching at the softness of his skin and the sureness of his grip.

“Thank you for this opportunity, Miss Briefs! I’m Kei Isamu,” he introduced, his voice almost taking on a husky tone as he spoke, nearly melting the heiress.

Bulma took a deep breath, her hand still in his as she finally said, “Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Isamu. Please call me Bulma.”

“Then you must call me Kei,” he replied with a pleasant smile before they both took their hands back.

She offered him a seat to which he gladly accepted and thus, the interview began.

_oOo_

_…TBC…_


	5. Chapter 4: One is the Loneliest Number

It wasn’t unusual for Bulma to find an employee attractive. Many of her workers were mostly men and it was bound to happen at some point. Yet despite her attractions, she kept to her ethics and steered clearly of dating any of them… though that never stopped her from flirting shamelessly. It made the day a little less boring and she loved it whenever their eyes would light up when she would walk into a room. She used to find the attention thrilling as she would watch their gazes rack up and down her form with longing and desire.

But, things changed when Vegeta stayed. And after awhile, the thrilling feeling of eyes upon her physique no longer felt the same. In the end, she only felt flattered, but otherwise, she didn’t care if their attention was on her or not. There was only one person whose attention she sought for and unfortunately, that person was being absurdly stubborn.

It had been nearly two months now since Bulma challenged Vegeta, but her efforts at winning him over were dwindling down. In the end, she was starting to become tired of chasing after him; she was tired of posing, of making up scenarios where they accidentally bumped into each other, and she was tired of even sabotaging the simulator so he was _forced_ to seek her out. She was starting to second guess herself. She knew she was attractive, but she wasn’t sure if he really wanted her or if he only said he did because of the position they were in.

After the many weeks of trying, Bulma slowly gave up. It was useless. No matter what situation she put them in, the end result was always the same. He would turn right around and leave, like nothing ever happened. It was beyond frustrating and each time it happened, she had to bite her tongue from screaming out her irritation. She didn’t want him to know she was purposefully doing these things, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her he may already know. He wasn’t stupid nor was he blind. Some of her attempts may have even been a little obvious.

But in her eyes, it didn’t matter. She was tired of waiting, tired of trying, and overall, tired of feeling alone. Being a mother to a young half-Saiya-jin boy wasn’t an easy job and required a lot of her attention. The majority of what she used to do, she could no longer do anymore. There were times she was forced to bring little Trunks to work and even then, her attention was divided. And sometimes, it hurt whenever she would watch her son, playing in the corner of a room alone. She tried her best to give him all he needed, but what she wanted to give him was something she was starting to think was impossible.

A real family.

The more Vegeta avoided her, the more her hopes turned sour. She had begun to think about swearing off men all-together.

Then, the interview happened.

The attraction between Bulma and Kei was instant, yet Bulma had to remind herself of her ethics and instead of flirting like she normally would, she conducted the interview professionally. Throughout the long session, she couldn’t help but notice his charming smile, his charismatic personality, and she cursed herself for the thoughts that drifted through her mind. What would it be like if she gave up Vegeta and instead pursued another man?

At first, she couldn’t picture it; the image immediately making her stomach churn in a harsh way. She loved Vegeta, no matter what his feelings were towards her, it was hard to consider giving him up. She bore his son; her attachments to him ran deep. But the constant neglect and space wasn’t helping matters, especially after she openly threw herself at him, challenging him directly to make the first move. She knew he wanted her, so why was he being so damn dismissive?

Bulma sighed.

Maybe she should consider becoming a lesbian after all?

_oOo_

Bulma bit her lip as she eyed the contents of her desk with disdain. She had spent far too much time reminiscing on Vegeta and neglected the mountains of paperwork that currently took up the majority of her desk. She hated paperwork and she was beginning to get a major headache from all the constant thinking she’s been doing.

Pushing herself away from her desk, Bulma stomped out of her office and towards the employees lounge, in desperate need of a cup of coffee. As she waltzed into the large room, she abruptly came to a stop in the doorway.

There, by the coffee machine, stood Kei, her new employee.

Ever since she hired him, her thoughts had been a mess. His good looks and charismatic personality was driving her up the wall. She hated that she liked him and she barely knew him. For a moment, she stood there, her eyes racking up and down his back with appreciation before she shook her head and mentally scolded herself for her behavior. She thought about turning around and leaving, but the smell of coffee wafted its way to her nose. She frowned. She was acting like a high school teenager with a crush. It was ridiculous!

Straightening her posture, Bulma waltzed into the room, her eyes trained on the coffee pot as she lifted it from its cradle. Reaching up, she opened the cabinet and grabbed a foam cup, all the while ignoring the man the stood next to her.

That is, she tried to until he spoke.

“Hey, Bulma!”

A shudder ran through the young heiress at the sound of his husky voice and she swallowed heavily before offering him a polite smile.

“Hey, Kei,” she greeted simply as she stirred in the creamer to her coffee.

She saw from her peripheral his form leaning against the counter, a smile on his face. “I just wanted to thank you again for giving me this opportunity.”

Bulma shook her head and nodded. “You more than deserve it,” she said as she lifted the cup to her mouth. She tried to keep the conversation short and simple in hopes that he would get the hint and stop talking, but she should’ve known better. He was a people’s person, something she quickly learned from the interview.

As she turned to leave, coffee in hand, Kei pushed himself away from the counter, his eyebrows lifted and mouth open, a clear sign he wanted to ask something.

She sighed inwardly before turning back to him. “Something wrong, Kei?”

He shook his head. “Oh, no! Nothing’s wrong…” He explained and a second later he looked hesitant. “I um… I’d like to ask you something, but I’m not sure how to go about it…”

Her brow furrowed and her stomach clenched. They way he was glancing at her now made Bulma nervous. She stood by the door as he took a step closer to her, her posture somewhat stiff and tense. He was only standing a few feet away from her and she couldn’t help but notice the way his brown hair fell into his eyes before he brushed it away and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I know you had mentioned that your father is rather strict on dating within the company, but…”

Her eyes widened a bit.

_Please don’t ask me, please don’t ask me!!_

“I just wanted you to know that I’d love to get to know you better outside of work…”

_This isn’t fair, why me?_

“And I would love to take you out to dinner some time…” He paused as he chuckled nervously, the corner of his eyes crinkling adorably. “I mean, if that’s okay with you?”

Bulma felt frozen. Her heart was racing, but her legs were immobile. She wanted to run from the room instead of having to answer such a simple yet complicated question. For a moment, she thought about flat out telling him _no_ , it’s against policy, they’re just coworkers. But as she gazed up at his face, she hesitated.

Ever since he had started working, he had been nothing but professional and polite and she couldn’t deny she had noticed his charms from day one. Yet, as she gazed at him, contemplating how to answer, Vegeta popped into her head. He had been distant and the very few times they had bumped into each other, he hadn’t given any sign of desire for her.

 _Maybe it was just the heat of the moment speaking_ , a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. If he had wanted her, he would’ve surely taken her by now, right? He was a prince, he was Vegeta, what he wanted, he pursued. But she didn’t feel pursued, she felt pushed to the side… forgotten…

Kei, on the other hand noticed her. He was sweet, kind, and very attractive. Her stomach fluttered whenever she was around him and it was no different now.

Bulma bit her lip and Kei noticed her reluctance.

“I-is… I mean, are you seeing someone? Because if you are, I apologize, I have the tendency of putting my foot in my mouth,” he sputtered off quickly and Bulma shook her head.

“No,” she said and then winced. “Well, I mean… Not really. It’s complicated,” she explained as she scratched her cheek. Even though his expression never changed, she could tell by his slumped over shoulders that he was disappointed. “He hasn’t really established that we’re together and I’m just…” She trailed off, not knowing how to word her complicated situation.

“You’re left confused, you’re tired of mixed signals, and you’re lonely?” He offered with a gentle smile and Bulma blinked before nodding.

“Yeah…”

Kei nodded. “I understand. I’ve been there. And from my experience, the only way to solve it is to talk.”

Bulma shook her head. “Funny, I tried that. I’m still in the dark. He’s not the talking type.”

“Well how about this? Go out with me one time and if the night doesn’t turn out right, then you can go home, laugh about how I was a cheap date and that’ll be the end of it?” He offered with a smile and Bulma laughed softly at his joke.

She thought about it for a moment before biting her lip and asking, “Just dinner?”

He nodded his eyes bright and encouraging.

Bulma smiled and said, “Okay… When?”

_oOo_

Vegeta grumbled as he sat at the dinner table. It was one of the few times he was in Bulma’s presence, but he was always the first to finish eating and leave. He had told himself over and over he would not be the first to make the move, but the longer time went on the more confused the prince became. He was absolutely positive the young heiress would’ve caved by now, but yet again, he had underestimated her.

He lifted a fork to his mouth, his eyes resting on her empty chair from across him. She hadn’t come down for dinner and the last few nights she had been acting even stranger than normal. She refused to meet his gaze, not that he tried, but he definitely noticed that she never glanced his way. She was always stiff and tense, almost nervous and there were only two reasons he could come up with to explain her behavior.

Either she was about admit defeat and was fighting herself on it (Vegeta smirked at that scenario) or she was hiding something from him.

The last time she hid anything from him, he discovered she was pregnant.

He definitely did not like that scenario. Shoveling another fork full of food into his mouth, he swallowed and glanced at the stairs, curiosity getting the better of him. Across from him, sitting next to the blonde ditz, sat his son, oblivious to his mother’s absence as he banged his fists on his tray, demanding more food and Vegeta leaned back into his chair, his eyes glancing from his son, to the empty chair, to the stairs.

Where the hell was she?

He knew she hadn’t left the compound; her pathetically weak ki was too close. No, she was more than likely in her room, but why?

Just as that thought entered his mind, a figure appeared at the top of the stairs and descended, and his jaw nearly slacked at the sight. Bulma’s normally straight hair was curled elegantly and hung over one shoulder. Peeking out from her curls where sparkling white hoops that dangled from her ears. His eyes followed along her slender neck, glancing over the white pearled necklace down to the dress she wore.

It was off shoulder and black with a small slit that ended in mid thigh. Her hands donned black gloves that covered most of her forearms and as his eyes gazed lower, he couldn’t see what kind of shoes she was wearing, but he didn’t care, even though he could tell but her added height it was obviously heels. The dress accentuated her physique and hugged her curves, though she wasn’t as skinny as she was before she was pregnant, she was still slender and beautiful.

Vegeta blinked, the fork in his hand forgotten as his eyes locked onto the delicious sight that was her. She wasn’t coming to dinner dressed like that was she? He knew about her attempts at sabotaging the gravity simulator, but never had she taken it to this level of trying to gain his attention.

Just as he was expecting her to take a seat across from him, instead, she waltzed on by and leaned down to peck her son on the cheek before straightening with a smile.

“Oh my, Bulma dear!” Bunny stated with a hand pressed to her chest. “You look lovely! When is he picking you up?”

Again, Vegeta blinked. Who the fuck was this “he” they were talking about?

An image of the scarred-face idiot popped into his head, giving him a smirk and a suggestive wink before it disappeared and it took all of his willpower not to growl possessively.

“He’ll be here soon,” Bulma said as she ran her glove clad fingers through her son’s hair.

Bunny giggled and fanned herself. “Is he taking you to the Skyline? Or that new Italian place downtown?”

Bulma shrugged. “I don’t know. He said it’s a surprise and to ‘dress to impress.’” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Vegeta’s tense form sitting hunched over his plate, the fork in his hand gripped tightly and bent and she couldn’t help but smirk.

If this was his show of jealousy, Bulma couldn’t help but feel he deserved it.

“Anyway, I may be home a little late, so are you alright to watch Trunks for me?”

Bunny nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, dear! I love taking care of my favorite grandson!” She squealed. “You enjoy yourself tonight,” she said with a wink.

Bulma blushed and laughed it off. “It’s just dinner, Mom, nothing more.”

Vegeta frowned. She had yet to say who she was going out with, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t like it in the least. Who did she think she was prancing around dressed like that, parading around with another man after she had clearly stated she wanted him? This feeling, this foreign feeling bubbled in the pits of Vegeta’s stomach and he swallowed heavily before finally taking notice to the bent fork in his grasp. He scoffed and re-bent the metal object in its rightful position before attempting to maintain a nonchalant manner… and failed.

“Where are you going?” He grunted as he returned to his dinner, only this time with less gusto.

Bulma glanced up at him and smiled gently. “I don’t know, like I said, it’s a surprise.”

“Who are you going with?”

“Someone I work with. Kei Isamu. He’s a new employee.”

“Why do you have to go out? Your mother cooked,” he grumbled.

Bulma shrugged. “He asked me and I thought it sounded like fun, so I said yes.”

“What about the boy?”

Bunny smiled, knowingly. “Oh don’t worry, Vegeta dear! I’ll look after Trunks!”

He glanced up at the blonde woman and glared at her before turning his glare to the onna whom smirked smugly.

“When will you be home?”

“I don’t know, why? Don’t want me to go?” She teased with a raised eyebrow. It was nice to see this sort of reaction from him, she was only hoping he would actually express how he was feeling and tell her he wanted her to stay. She would, she knew she would, but when he grunted and turned his head back to his dinner, she was only mildly disappointed.

When the doorbell rang, both Bulma and Bunny perked up. As Bulma answered the door, Bunny stood and followed, her curiosity at who this man was getting the better of her. As the door opened, Bulma couldn’t help but stare. In his suit for work, he was handsome, but in the tux he wore now, he was dashing. Quickly getting a hold of herself, she stepped aside and let him into the compound and they exchanged smiles.

“Wow, you look really handsome, Kei,” Bulma said as she closed the door.

Kei shook his head as she eyed her up and down, awe-struck. He chuckled. “You look really beautiful, Bulma. Um, these are for you,” He said as he handed her a bouquet of roses. She blushed and took them, taking a deep whiff of their scent, before she noticed her mother hovering like a jitter bug.

She shook her head and gestured to her. “Kei, this is my mother, Bunny Briefs. Mom, this is Kei Isamu.” They shook hands, Bunny blushing lightly as they exchanged pleasantries, before taking the roses from Bulma and headed for the kitchen. The moment she walked away, a smaller figure appeared behind her, his gaze one of suspicion and curiosity.

Kei glanced down and smiled brightly. “And who’s this little guy?”

Bulma bite her lip and reached down to pick Trunks up. He immediately cuddled up in her arms, though his eyes remained trained on the strange man standing in the middle of the room. “This is my son, Trunks.” Glancing back at the kitchen, Bulma realized her mother was too busy and she sighed. Turning back to Kei, she smiled apologetically. “Can you excuse me for a moment. I need to get him to bed.”

He nodded and watched as she quickly left to room, leaving him standing there waiting. He turned his attention to the few pictures that were laid out, each one filled with both the heiress and people he had yet to meet or her son. As he reached down to pick one of the pictures up to examine it more closely, a brush of air from behind him startled the man, causing him to turn around abruptly and meet the cold onyx eyes of Vegeta.

He swallowed heavily at the close proximity the shorter man stood to him and Kei was forced to take a step back before he felt just a little more comfortable. The intense gaze the man gave him made him feel even smaller than a five year old child, something he hadn’t felt since he lived with his parents. It made him want to crawl in a dark hole and hide away, but instead, Kei stared back with as much courage as possible.

He didn’t even realize he was shaking until he opened his mouth to speak. “H-hi,” he cleared his throat, a light blush covering his cheeks as his voice betrayed his inner feelings. “Hello. I’m Kei,” he introduced and held out his nearly trembling hand. “And you are?”

Vegeta glanced down at the proffered hand before cocking a brow and returning his intense gaze back at the man before him, continuing his assessment. He was tall, sure, and with heels, Bulma met his height perfectly, Vegeta noticed. His built, though, was another thing entirely. Vegeta scowled at the pathetic form of the man. This is what human women were attracted too?

He barely had any meat on his bones, hardly any muscle, and he was entirely too slender. He almost looked sick, in Vegeta’s eyes. Why the hell was Bulma going out with this fool?

After realizing the shorter man wasn’t going to offer his own hand out for a shake, Kei dropped his arm and stuck his hands in his pockets when they did begin to tremble. Whoever this man was, he was too intimidating for someone of his height.

Kei gulped and nearly flinched as Vegeta leaned in closer, causing him to lean further back, his eyes wide as the prince spoke in a calm, quiet, but clearly threatening tone, “One hair out of place on her head, your balls are mine,” was all he said before he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Kei to tremble and reconsider his date.

Just as Vegeta reached the stairs, Bulma was descending and she glanced at him just as he glanced at her, his eyes racking up and down her form once more, this time jealousy flashing in the depths of his eyes, before it disappeared as he turned away.

Bulma frowned as she made her way to Kei and she tilted her head curiously at his posture. He looked pale, almost afraid and she glanced back at the stairs and then again at Kei, putting two and two together. Her frown deepened and she pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking, _damn you, Vegeta,_ before she approached Kei with a gentle smile.

“Hey… Sorry if he was rude to you, just ignore him. Vegeta’s all bark and no bite,” Bulma apologized and cringed at the same time. All bark and no bite may not be the truth, but she couldn’t exactly be honest to a man who was clearly afraid of the father of her child.

Straightening, Kei nodded and gave her a smile as he attempted to push his fear away. For a moment, he had thought about canceling the date, faking a sudden stomach flu, and go home, but one look at her and he decided against it.

“Its fine,” he said before he turned and offered her his arm and she smiled as she slipped her own through his.

The sensation of just touching him caused a dangerous feeling to flutter and with all her might, Bulma shoved it down as she told herself it was just dinner, but as they walked through the front door to a private limo waiting for them, Bulma knew she was in trouble. She smiled in thanks when he held the door open for her and she slipped inside to see another bouquet of roses in a vase next to some champagne and suddenly, Bulma was regretting her decision on the date.

But the moment Kei slipped inside and shut the door, she knew it was too late to turn back and they set off on a night she would never forget.

_oOo_

_…TBC…_


	6. Chapter 5: The Edge of a Thought at a Crossroad

Bulma chewed on the tip of her pen, her head held in the palm of her hand as her elbow rested on the flat surface of her desk. She hadn’t moved from that position for several minutes, her eyes staring off ahead in deep thought. The previous nights date was still fresh in her mind and as she thought back, she couldn’t help but blush.

_The evening had started out rocky in her opinion. The moment she entered the limo, Bulma immediately began to wonder if the date was the best decision. Apprehension for what was to come was unavoidable. Her stomach churned and fluttered as the driver pulled away from the compound and out onto the busy streets of West City. Immediately, Bulma began to fiddle with her clutch, her thoughts straying to Vegeta and his reaction to her plans for the evening._

_She knew just from Kei’s reaction in the living room that something had transpired between him and her former lover. But Kei had refused to budge; his tense and stiff posture relaxing as he gave her what she could tell was a forced smile. It was still eating at her and her brow furrowed as she continued to analyze what could’ve possibly took place. Noting her unusual quietness, Kei reached forward for the champagne bottle and popped the cork before filling two flutes with the bubbly contents._

_He handed her one of the flutes, snapping her out of her thoughts as she accepted it with a small smile and she bit her lip at how his eyes seemed to sparkle every now and then from the passing street lights. He attempted light conversation during the ride, even cracking a few jokes, his face lighting up whenever he received a laugh from her, causing her heart to skip a beat just from the sight._

_A part of her hated how easy it was to be with him. Little movements she made always captured his attention and she knew he noticed her mind was elsewhere. He was extremely perceptive and he made sure to be careful around certain topics… Anything referring to Vegeta was a no-no and whenever he saw her eyes drift off, he did his best to bring her back around; his attempts at distracting her—at first—were rough._

_But then they had reached the restaurant and any thoughts of Vegeta were pushed out of her mind. Her eyes widened when he helped her out of the car, her attention firmly placed on the elegant sign before her, the curving and wrapping of the letters spelling out Utova. It was a well-renown restaurant, the previous critics giving the place a generous four stars for its creative and intricate dishes. It was expensive and mostly housed local celebrities and politicians, but it was well known for giving quite a bit of its profits away to charity. She glanced at Kei in surprise, but he only smiled and held out his arm in invitation._

_She slid her arm through his and was guided forward into the building. Out of the two of them, Bulma was sure she was the only one who could afford such a place to dine at, but she held her tongue as he guided her to the host, giving his name before they were both led to their table. Bulma swallowed heavily. Their table was secluded from the rest of the dining room in a small corner, lit by a lone candle. The ambience screamed romance and intimacy with how close the chairs were pushed together, and it took the heiress a moment to catch her breath._

_Throughout the dinner, Kei flirted shamelessly, and much to her annoyance, she couldn’t help but flirt back. They sat close together, leaning over the table towards one another as they spoke quietly, only to pull apart whenever their server interrupted their private moments. It wasn’t until the end of the dinner that Bulma really began to fidget inwardly._

_The dessert cart had been wheeled to their table and Kei chose the mixed berries dipped in chocolate sauce as their dessert. Bulma’s heart raced when he lifted one of the strawberries from the dark sauce, before leaning towards her in an offering, a shy, tentative smile playing on his lips. He was uncertain of this action and she knew this was a make-or-break type of moment. She stared at the offered berry, before her eyes glanced up at his and for the final time that evening, Vegeta popped into her head. But instead of guilt and disappointment, she felt anger and resentment._

_This man that sat before her had been honest and upfront about his feelings, never once pulling her along for a ride before disconnecting all ties, like Vegeta had been known to do. She couldn’t help but think about her many attempts to be with the one man she wanted most, only to be thrown aside. And then, in that brief moment, her thoughts strayed to her son; her beautiful little boy who desperately wanted the attention of his father. And as she thought of Trunks, she began to picture Kei standing with him, the two smiling and laughing in her mind’s eye._

_She blinked when she realized that in that moment, she had pictured a time in her life, in the future,_ without _Vegeta._

_Staring at the surface of the table, her eyes widened a fraction in shock and her heart sped up before slowing down, before speeding back up again. Her mind was going a million miles a minute and she never realized that in this short amount of time spent thinking, Kei began to grow nervous. He had lowered his arm some and tilted his head in an attempt to grasp her attention._

_The soft, “Bulma?” was what pulled her from her thoughts._

_She glanced back up to see the hand holding the berry had been lowered and finally, she made her decision. Reaching forward, Bulma gently took hold of his wrist before leaning over the table and slowly, she took a bite of the berry, the mixture of the dark chocolate and the juice of the strawberry bursting in her mouth. Her eyes met his as she chewed and swallowed, her tongue peaking out to lick away any remains on her lips before she leaned the rest of the way towards him, her lips brushing against his in a feather-light kiss._

The pen she had been chewing on fell from her lips and she rested her head against the wood of the desk with a groan of frustration.

Her actions last night were a turning point and ever since he dropped her off, Bulma questioned herself. It wasn’t the only kissed they shared, though it was the one that changed things between them for the rest of the evening. She remembered him walking her up to her door, both of them sharing a laugh at a comment they had overheard earlier in the evening. Just as she reached the door, Kei took hold of her hand to bid her a good night and before she could get her feet to turn to walk inside, they did the exact opposite. Instead of heading in for the night, Bulma leaned forward just as Kei did, their lips meeting in a sweet, lingering kiss. Their lips brushed against one another several more times, each one slower than the previous, before she pulled herself away. She had finally bid him goodnight, the door now opened behind her, and she watched him walk down the sidewalk towards the limo.

Just as the limo pulled away, Bulma frowned and glanced up towards the balcony that overlooked the courtyard in front of the compound to see a dark figure watching her… Vegeta. They both stood there for several seconds, watching the other, before she saw him turn and walk back inside.

She hadn’t seen him since. Normally in the mornings, Vegeta ate breakfast with everyone else, but when she had come down after getting ready for work, his chair was empty. After finishing eating and taking care of Trunks, Bulma left for her office. Whenever she passed along a window, she would glance out it in hopes of catching a glimpse of the Prince, but to no avail.

Now, she sat at her desk, and after inhaling a long breath, Bulma banged her forehead on the hard surface before leaning back in her chair. She knew he saw their shared kiss and it only left her even more confused as to why he was watching in the first place.

A soft knock on her door jolted her out of her thoughts and she glanced up to see Kei’s head peering around her door with a bright smile. She sat up in her chair when he waltzed in, two foam cups held in his hand.

“Coffee? Looks like you could use some,” he said, noting disheveled hair and a slight red mark on her forehead from where she banged it against the desk.

She chuckled inwardly and nodded, accepting the offered cup as he sat down across from her. She took a sip and eyed him over the rim of her cup.

He seemed almost too good to be true.

_oOo_

Vegeta hadn’t slept. The moment Bulma left the compound he had paced back and forth in the dark hallways as minutes passed into hours. Whenever the boy cried, he gritted his teeth and marched off to where he could just barely hear the sound. He didn’t want to leave the compound altogether, but leaving had sounded like bliss.

The moment the heiress descended the stairs in that form fitting dress, declaring that she had a “date” made his blood boil. He had become use to be the only object of her attentions and now that her attentions had diverted elsewhere, he wasn’t sure how to react. He should’ve been pleased, he deduced, but instead he found her distracted attentions not to his liking. It didn’t help when the man who now held her affections came barreling through the door with a cocky swagger and a confident grin.

It disgusted Vegeta.

Watching him, the Saiya-jin no Ouji decided it was time to put the bastard in his place. He made sure to wait until Bulma was no longer in the room. If she discovered his intentions, he would never hear the end of her screeching. When he approached the weakling from behind, he made sure to assess him as if he were a normal enemy on the battlefield, but this time it was different. There was no physical battle _(yet, Vegeta thought)_. This time, it was more primal; urges had begun to develop within Vegeta just at the sight of the man. He wanted to stake his claim, let this asshole know to whom the woman belonged to.

It was gratifying to know that he could still inflict fear in others just from a close proximity and a few whispered words. He could practically taste the fear that permeated from the man before he stalked off.

The worst part was the wait. And finally when it was close to one in the morning, Vegeta could hear a car pulling up towards the compound. Stealthily, he made his way to the front balcony that overlooked the courtyard and watched soothingly as the couple made their merry way up the sidewalk towards the compound. His eyes narrowed into slits and his fists clenched as his ki spiked when he witnessed the kiss.

He watched the man walk away and he restrained himself from blasting the fool to the next dimension before returning his attention to the woman, who was then looking at him.

It was entirely too much.

After standing there for several minutes, Vegeta walked back inside, heading directly for his room, before grasping his armor, boots, and gloves. Throwing them on, Vegeta threw open the sliding doors to his own balcony before taking off.

For the next day, Vegeta spent his time in the desert far from West City. Craters could be seen every few miles from his explosive rage being unleashed. Dunes of sands became clouds from the many blasts and oasis’s that had once existed were now barren waste lands. He imagined the man’s face each time and took pleasure at the imaginative way he plotted his death. If the regeneration tank from Frieza’s ship was in working order, he could place the fool in there to heal up just enough before starting in on him again.

However, after hours and hours of destruction, Vegeta eventually found himself on the highest point of a mountain outside of Oakridge several hours north of the Capital. He lay on his back as he caught his breath; his hands clenched in his hair as sweat beaded its way down his face and took those moments to meditate. Sitting up, Vegeta straightened his back before closing his eyes, attempting to put himself in a trance like state to help rid himself of his anger.

It didn’t work.

After many attempts, the Prince gave up; his feet now dangling off the edge of a cliff overlooking the valley of Oakridge. He had never once imagined himself in such a position. He had once ridiculed others for the feelings they claimed to have, the ones he feared he was now developing. It wasn’t pleasant and rather uncomfortable. It was completely foreign to him and the way he reacted was unlike him. But one thing he knew for sure was he did not like her with other men. And that was going to come to a stop.

Nodding to himself, Vegeta hovered over the valley, just as droplets of rain began to fall and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

It was time for a change.

_oOo_

That night left Bulma sitting in the nursery. Trunks lay asleep in his crib, his blankets pushed towards the other side sometime during the night. The day had been filled with thoughts of the previous night and the heiress began to feel troubled by them. She wasn’t sure how to feel about thinking of a future that didn’t involve Vegeta and what bothered her most was that she envisioned _another man_ in his place. It left her unsettled.

It also didn’t help that she hadn’t seen Vegeta all day. His watchful eye last night stirred up confused emotions in her. It wasn’t the first time he had watched her, but the vibe she had gotten off him was completely different from all the other times. He acted almost… jealous?

But that couldn’t be. He had made it apparent that he wanted nothing to do with her in any romantic situation. Yet, Bulma was brought back to the moment when she found Kei in her living room, pale, shaken, and _scared_. That had Vegeta written all over it.

Just what was he playing at?

Rocking in the chair, Bulma leaned her head on her hand to rub at the aching pain that begun to form in her temples. It wasn’t fair, she concluded. She felt as if she was in some tug-of-war game between two men, one who made it apparent that he wanted her, while the other went from hot to cold in seconds flat. And yet, under it all, she knew if Vegeta spoke just those three simple words that she’d end things with Kei in a heartbeat.

And that wasn’t fair either.

Bulma sighed exasperately.

She was using a wonderful man to fill a void that couldn’t necessarily be filled except by one person. However, when she was with him, she couldn’t help but somehow forget that void even existed. He made things easy for her. She felt wanted, appreciated, and ridiculously enough, beautiful.

Bulma shook her head and rolled her eyes. She was acting like a school girl with a crush. But was that so terrible? It was nice to act like a girl who was finally being chased by someone, albeit it wasn’t the person she wanted to “chase her” but still, the feelings it created was nice enough that she decided to run with it. She was tired of being the one to flaunt herself in front of someone. Was it really _that_ hard for Vegeta to do the same?

With that thought, Bulma lifted herself up a bit to pull her phone from her pocket. She scrolled through her contacts before finding Kei’s number, and sent him _“Want to go to lunch tomorrow?”_ Her finger hovered over the send button before she pressed it and waited. Tomorrow was her only day off of the week and she knew he had it off too.

She didn’t have to wait long. A minute later, her phone vibrated and she opened the message to see, _“Sure! I’ll pick you up around one!”_

Smiling, Bulma slid her phone back in her pocket before she stood to cover her little boy with his abandoned blanket. She lightly brushed the top of his head affectionately before leaving the room. A good night’s rest was in order for the new day to come.

_oOo_

“Yeah, he can be a little terror,” Bulma replied with a smile on her face.

The couple sat across from each other on the patio of a local bakery, the sun beating down on them from the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day for a lunch date outside and this time, Bulma had decided to take him to one of her favorite spots in the city. It was a relatively cheap place and wasn’t as well known as the restaurant he had taken her too, but the sandwiches and assorted baked goods they made was mouthwatering. The place always smelled like freshly baked bread.

“And how old is he?” Kei asked, taking a drink of his tea.

Bulma chuckled. “He’s two,” she shook her head. “Two already…”

Kei smiled. “Time flies, huh?”

“Yes, it does,” she replied. “So, do you have any kids?”

He shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. “No, just a few nieces and nephews I’m pretty close with, but none of my own. My uh…” he hesitated as he swirled the leftover contents of his tea in his cup. “My marriage ended in divorce before we could have any.”

The young heiress winced sympathetically. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been rough.”

He nodded. “It was. Brutal, really. We were high school sweethearts, married a year after graduation. We were young, stupid, thought we were in love. But towards the end, we just didn’t see eye to eye.” He shrugged as he downed the rest of his drink. “I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

“I get that,” she said, thinking of Yamcha. “I was with a man for ten years. Thought I was going to marry him, start a family with him and everything. But, like you said, it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Kei frowned, confused. “That man… He’s not your son’s father?”

Bulma’s eyes widened a fraction before she sputtered out a laugh at the thought of Yamcha being Trunks father. “No, no. He’s just a really good friend now. He helped me quite a bit through my pregnancy, but that’s about it.”

“So, where’s the father now?” He asked and almost immediately regretted it. The look on her face, the bright and happy light that shone in her eyes, dimmed just a bit. It was apparently a touchy subject. “I’m… I’m sorry, that’s really personal and none of my business,” he mouthed off quickly.

Bulma shook her head. “No. I mean,” she winced and bit her lip, “yes, it’s personal, but you do have a right to know. I’m just…” she sighed. “I’m just afraid of your reaction.”

His eyes narrowed a bit, but he waited patiently.

Sighing, she sat up straight in her chair, her hands coming to rest on top of the metal patio table as she began to explain to him, omitting a few details. Kei sat back as he absorbed the information, of how a lonely night changed her life, of how this man up and left shortly after only to return after months of being absent, of how she attempted to hide the pregnancy for fear of his response. She explained to him that he was an alien who immigrated to West City from a far away country, careful to leave out details of his royal heritage and the fact that he came from an actual distant planet from another galaxy. She explained how a war took place, of how everyone but him was killed. She tried to keep each detail short and sweet to avoid any questions and she watched his expressions carefully.

“His name’s Vegeta. He lives at the compound with my family and me. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go. He lost everyone, everything in this war. So I took him in. He can be a right jerk and he sometimes acts like he’s the king of the universe,” she smiled inwardly at that, “but after everything that’s happened I know he cares about Trunks. And that’s all I can really ask for…”

They sat in silence for several minutes. It was awkward and tense.

Bulma closed her eyes as she said, “I know it’s weird for you that he lives there, but there’s nothing between us.” _He made sure of that_ , Bulma thought.

Kei stared down at the surface of the table and slowly nodded. He rubbed at his face a bit and said, “Yeah, it is a bit weird, but I can understand. You want him around for your kid and I can’t argue with that. I’m just a little… uncomfortable with the history and that he lives under the same roof as you…”

She nodded. “If you want to put a halt on this,” she gestured between the two, “I’ll understand. I don’t want to put you in a situation you’re not comfortable with.”

Surprisingly, Kei shook his head and reached over to take her hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly. “No, I don’t want that,” he admitted. “I want you, Bulma. I like you a lot. And I like where this could possibly go. Your history with this guy isn’t going to scare me off that easily.”

Bulma blinked. Was he serious? She had just told him she had jumped the bones of a man that lives underneath her roof because she was lonely and needed a good lay and he accepted it? If someone had told her that, she would’ve turned tail and ran. Shaking her head, Bulma decided this man was too perfect. But right now, he was exactly what she needed.

She smiled and nodded.

Maybe this thing between them wasn’t so bad after all?

_oOo_

Returning to the compound, Bulma felt weightless. It was nice to finally explain, to some extent, her history with Vegeta to someone. It felt like a bolder had been lifted off her shoulders. She threw her keys onto the table and stretched, groaning in the process as she made her way out to the porch in the back of the compound. It was such a beautiful day it would’ve been a shame to waste it.

She slid open the back doors and walked out into the fresh air, inhaling it with her head tilted back.

She felt liberated and giddy.

Just as she made her way further out onto the porch, the scent of smoke wafted its way to her senses and she frowned. Turning, she glanced to her right to see a large fire burning towards the edges of the trees with what appeared to be a spit built around it. Cocking a brow, Bulma made her way over to the roaring flames, only to come to a halt when Vegeta emerged from the darkness of the woods.

And he wasn’t alone.

On his back over his left shoulder, he carried what seemed to be a rather large carcass, and in his right hand was a sack of kami knew what. He carried the large bloody carcass to the picnic table that had been moved near the fire, dropping his burden onto the table with a large thud. Turning, Vegeta tore open the sack to reveal an arrangement of fruits and vegetables and he emptied them into a large bowl next to the dead animal.

Bulma watched as he walked back around the table and leaned down before standing back up straight to reveal in his hand a large butcher’s knife and her eyes widened when he began to tear into the dead beast.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Bulma made her way over to the odd sight. Making sure to stand a good distance away from the table, the heiress called out, “What are you doing?”

Vegeta stopped in ministrations and glanced up at her as if she had asked the dumbest question known to mankind.

“What does it look like?”

She cocked a brow. “Well, it looks like you’re playing butcher.” She nearly gagged when he continued his work, his hands pulling out an array of innards that Bulma could’ve handled not seeing. Vegeta grunted throughout his work as he cleaned and took apart various portions of the animal as Bulma watched on confused. Why was he doing this?

She decided to ask him just that.

“So, why are you doing this? You do know we have food in the fridge, right?”

Instead of looking at her as he responded, he continued to hack away. “And here I thought you’d appreciate not having to cook for once,” he replied, though she could hear it dripping in sarcasm.

Until she began to think about what he just said.

“Wait…” she said as she took a step forward, her arms crossing in front of her chest. “Is that your way of trying to tell me that you’re doing this for me?”

The look he gave her was answer enough. It was intense, deep, and filled with so many emotions she couldn’t put her finger on any of them in enough time to analyze them before he looked away. He was doing this for her! But why? What was his endgame? What was his motivation? What exactly was he trying to play at?

If he wanted to cook her dinner, why not pull something from the fridge and throw a couple ingredients together and be done with it?

“Why?” she asked. He didn’t answer, instead turning away from her to wipe his hands clean before reaching for the bowl of vegetables. Becoming frustrated with lack of answers, Bulma walked around the table to approach him. “Why, Vegeta?” she asked again.

He sat the bowl down and turned to grab the long spit. Having enough of his silence, Bulma stepped in his way, blocking him from the sharp object. “Answer me! Why are you doing this for me?”

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed as he met her glare. “I thought it’d be obvious. You claim to be such a genius, figure it out,” he said slowly before walking around her for the spit.

Watching him, Bulma became too frustrated. She knew he wasn’t going to tell her outright. So instead, she turned for the compound, leaving him for his preparations. She took the stairs two at a time as she made her way up to her room, passing the nursery in a rush. Just as she turned the corner, she saw her bedroom door had been left open. Frowning, she approached the door, having assured herself that she did in fact close it before leaving for her lunch date.

It could’ve been her mother. She did have the habit of barging into places, but from the looks of the room, there was nothing out of place. No laundry basket on her bed and her hamper was still partially full. If her mother had been in here, the hamper would’ve been emptied and a basket would’ve been at the foot of her bed.

Instead, on the covers of her bed, a small bound book lay with a familiar symbol on the leather cover. It had been quite a while since she had seen the book and since his return, he had made sure to keep it locked away. But surprisingly, it was here, in her room.

Why?

Surely he wouldn’t have left it. He was very protective of his things. Glancing out her window to see Vegeta standing by the fire, working away to finish the cooking the large meal, Bulma decided she had had enough. Marching towards the bed, Bulma swiped the book off and ran back downstairs, her steps thudding in her haste. She turned the corner to head back out to the porch, bypassing her mother who watched her curiously from the kitchen island. She slammed the sliding doors behind her as she made her way over to Vegeta before grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him towards her.

“What is this doing in my room? What are you playing at?” She nearly screeched in anger.

He looked from the book to her and his left eye twitched.

“I put it there,” was all he said.

Bulma let out an exasperated breath. “Oh my Kami, you are so irritating! Why can’t you just tell me why you’re doing this?!”

Vegeta sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, “Onna, it’s bookmarked.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“I said, it’s bookmarked, you infuriating wench!”

“What does that have to do with any—“ she began only to have him cut her off.

“Just read it!”

Frowning at his bossy tone, Bulma obliged him and opened to the bookmarked page. A folded piece of paper slid into her hands and she unfolded it, her eyes widening at the first words on the page.

“It’s all in…”

“Yes,” he began. “I translated just those few pages so maybe your little human brain can understand.”

She glanced up at him for a second before returning to the paper.

The words _“Courting rituals”_ stuck out like a sour thumb and her heart nearly stopped beating.

_Holy fucking shit!_

_oOo_

_…TBC…_


	7. Chapter 6: Turning Tables

Bulma sat in the grass as Vegeta rotated the meat that was speared on the spit. Her eyes were glued to the pages that were cradled in her lap before they switched to the pages of the book as she attempted to learn as much of his language as possible. She had read over the white pieces of paper several times with unbelieving eyes as its message not having sunken in yet till the final time she read over it.

He was courting her, according to the translation. This first stage of courtship was a feast. And it was up to her whether or not to share the feast with him. If she accepted his kill and ate by his side, she would be accepting his courtship. Bulma’s heart raced as she glanced up from the pages to watch him.

This was his way of asking her to date him? It was most unusual for her, to watch him gut and butcher his kill in front of her, and cook it for her. It was even more surprising to have him translate some of his book for her to understand just exactly it was he couldn’t physically say.

A part of Bulma was flattered. This was what she wanted and it seemed like she was finally getting it. But, another part of her was angry. Just as things were finally starting to settle for her, he does this. She had begun to accept the fact that they may never be together and just as that acceptance sunk in, he left her the book in her room.

This left the heiress even more confused. She continued to read over the pages, switching back and forth from them to the book while Vegeta cooked. She wasn’t exactly sure if she wanted to accept his feast and before she gave him a definitive answer, she decided to read as much as she could to help sort through her confused thoughts.

The next step of courtship, the translation explained, was the dueling of rivals. Bulma paled at this when she thought of Kei and Yamcha. She glanced back up at Vegeta, whose back was turned to her as he stood over the fire, and she knew without a doubt that he would engage in any type of battle with either of those men in a heartbeat. Fighting was something Vegeta never turned down, but when it came to his pride, he was more determined than ever.

Flattery turned to nervousness, which turned to anxiousness. What exactly did this mean for the relationship she was building with Kei? It certainly threw a monkey wrench into her plans, Bulma thought with a humorous chuckle. But soon, her humor vanished as she turned her attention back to pages in her lap. She had always wished for this, but… not exactly like this .

It was a lot to take in and Bulma had hoped for some time to think it over, but from the looks of it, she had until the food was done cooking to make a decision.

So, instead of dwelling on what to do, Bulma became engrossed in the translation, the scientist in her taking over and pushing the panicking woman aside. It wasn’t every day she was handed a translation of an alien language and she was going to take full advantage of it.

However, it was that advantage that became her downfall.

Nearly two hours had passed and the meat was finally done cooking. Vegeta raised the spit further from the fire to keep it warm, but to stop it from cooking. He turned to Bulma and noticed her face nearly buried deep in the leather bound book he had given her, her attention so engrossed she hadn’t noticed his movements. Slightly annoyed, Vegeta began to slice off pieces of the meat, setting it on small paper plates he had found in the kitchen on his way out for the hunt, and sat one of them near Bulma before serving himself.

The smell wafted its way to Bulma’s senses, the mouthwatering scent making her stomach growl with approval. Without putting the book down, Bulma absentmindedly took a piece of meat from the plate and shoved it into her mouth, forgetting exactly what it was she was doing.

Vegeta sat across from her, his full plate sitting in his lap without being touched. It was customary to wait for the female to eat first when beginning courtship. If the food was pushed aside, the courtship was deemed unworthy and the food would be forced to go to waste. But the moment Bulma plucked the first bite from her plate Vegeta smirked victoriously and dug in.

They both ate in silence, Bulma too absorbed in the book and Vegeta absorbed in watching her.

It wasn’t until the last bite that Bulma had finally realized exactly what she had done. She stilled; the last bit of meat limply hanging from her fingertips and she turned from the book to the piece of meat with wide eyes. She swallowed what was left in her mouth and could feel it going down into her stomach as if it were a heavy rock. She had been so engaged in learning Vegeta’s language that the courtship rituals had completely slipped her mind. She turned to see Vegeta sitting across from her, the look in his eyes making her blush and send a shiver down her spine. His eyes were heavy lidded with desire and accomplishment, and a smirk was dancing on his lips with victory.

She had just accepted his courtship… and what she didn’t know was there was no going back.

_oOo_

Vegeta frowned as he stood in the middle of the simulator. The gravity had been disengaged, his concentration was null, and he was angry. Yesterday hadn’t gone exactly how he had envisioned it. Bring the onna the meat, allow her to read from his personal journal, feed her while engaging in the first steps of courtship, and then run back to his room and have sex. But as he recounted the day, the onna’s enthusiasm wasn’t what he expected. She had downright panicked. And the sex he was expecting didn’t happen at all.

He was not pleased.

He stood rigid, his burning gaze penetrating the offending control panel of the simulator as he stewed. Wasn’t this what she wanted? It had been obvious from her flirty advances, but the moment he finally decides to give in, she turns tail and runs?

Unacceptable!

Who was she to deny _him_? Granted, she accepted his offerings, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew it was a mistake on her part. But, then again, he couldn’t blame her entirely. Part of him wanted to pat himself on the back for his cunning scheme. Giving her that book, he knew, would distract her. He knew she wouldn’t be able to pass up the opportunity to learn a foreign _alien_ language. But he didn’t exactly expect her to snap the book shut, climb to her feet, and shoot off to the compound like she did, completely avoiding him from then on.

It was too late though. She had eaten from the cooked kill, she knew what it was he was offering, and the acceptance could not be taken back. She had to live with the consequences until the following steps of courtship were intitated. The only way out was for a rival to defeat him in battle. That was the only thing that was out of his hands. She could pick anyone to challenge him and it was up to him to fight for what he wanted.

Vegeta smirked.

This was the part he looked forward to most. Knowing the onna, she would present the challenge to him willingly and fiercely. She would not disappoint him here.

And he would be sure to overcome whatever obstacle she threw at him.

_oOo_

She had made sure to avoid him at all costs for the next several days. She knew that if he indeed wanted to see her, he could easily find her and demand her attention with the snap of his fingers. A part of her was grateful that he was giving her the space she needed. But she knew it wouldn’t last. It surprised her that she was able to get away with not seeing him for as long as she had.

The moment Bulma realized exactly what she had done; she had immediately fled the scene and sought refuge deep within the compound. Maybe, subconsciously, she wanted to accept his offering, and while she was preoccupied with her research of his dead language, her consciousness took action for her. The meat had been delicious and juicy, and the smell of it was seductive enough that she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t think and just ate. It always happened when she was engrossed with something new. Someone would bring her food, she wouldn’t even bother to look away from what she was doing, and begin to pick at the plate. It was a bad habit that she needed to break herself of.

The night of the courtship, as well as the next day, Bulma berated herself for what she had done. It was stupid and she was filled with guilt. Though she felt a sense of anxiety and excitement at the prospect of Vegeta finally giving in, it left her with questions on what do to about Kei.

Bulma sat in the rocking chair in her son’s nursery, Trunks head resting comfortably in the crook of her neck as she soothed him back to sleep. In her free hand was she holding her phone, her finger scrolling on the screen as she read the latest text Kei had sent her. She hadn’t spoken to him much since their lunch date and had avoided his texts since. She needed time to think.

She sighed. Kei was fantastic. He made her feel special, filled the void of loneliness that had begun to sink its teeth in her, and he knew exactly what to say to make things seem brighter. He was almost too perfect, which made her wonder exactly what it was that could possibly be wrong with him. Was he a secretly mass murderer, a spy for another company, or a closet jealous boyfriend that smothered his significant others? The latter, in Bulma’s mind, was a more likely possibility than any, considering his failed marriage. He didn’t delve into too many details about it, but she hadn’t asked either.

Categorizing his seemingly pseudo-flaws seemed wrong. It was still early in their relationship, she didn’t know much about him, and he didn’t know much about her. That was what was scary. This was so new…

Her phone beeped, signifying another text. Taking a breath, Bulma opened her inbox to see another text from Kei asking her if everything was okay. Her stomach felt heavy as she considered telling him the truth.

No, everything wasn’t okay, but could she really tell him what had happened? She was surprised he didn’t leave when she admitted she lived with the father of her child. If she told him that Vegeta wanted to enter back into a relationship, anything she had with Kei could go under.

So, instead, Bulma lied and replied that everything was fine. She explained how she had become busy with Trunks and some new inventions, hoping he wouldn’t question her any further. Shortly after she sent the text, he replied, his response making her heart swell pleasantly, but her stomach clench painfully.

_“I see. Maybe you should take a day away from all chaos and I take you and Trunks out. I hear there’s a circus coming into town, think he may like it?”_

It was a big step to take Trunks with her on a date with her new boyfriend. What would that say about them? Would that mean this is serious? It sounded fun, all things considered, but it left her feeling anxious and skeptical.

Glancing down at Trunks’ peaceful face, Bulma bit her lip. He hadn’t ever been to the circus and she wasn’t sure how he would respond to it. When she was little, she was both terrified and exhilarated by the circus. The giant elephants were what scared her the most. But her baby boy was so much better than she was when she was young, she couldn’t help but think he would take to the experience rather well.

But what would Vegeta think?

A part of her wanted to end things with Kei and run straight to Vegeta, but after all of her advances and attempts to get him to notice not only her, but their son as well, she felt she needed to let him stew in his juices a bit longer. Yet the other part of her really liked Kei. He made time for her and he seemed like he cared quite a bit.

Sighing, Bulma lifted her phone to respond, knowing that things were about to get interesting.

_oOo_

Two nights later found Bulma chewing on her bottom lip nervously as she sat the phone back down on the counter. Kei would be picking her and Trunks up the following afternoon to attend the circus that was currently in town, and the fact that she had agreed to attend with her son left her heart racing.

 _“So, I’ll see you at one?_ ” _Bulma had asked as she leaned against the counter of the kitchen._

_“Sure thing! I’ll bet Trunks is excited!” Kei responded with enthusiasm. He could hear nervous anticipation in Bulma’s voice, but never called her on it._

_She winced. “He will be. If I tell him now, he’ll never get any sleep,” she explained lamely. She had yet to tell her baby boy he would be spending the day with a strange man and she wasn’t sure how to go about it. She knew it was a lame excuse, that she was procrastinating because of Vegeta, but it was the only excuse she could stick to._

_“Ah, so he doesn’t know yet?” he asked, his enthusiasm slightly less than before._

_Bulma sighed. “No, not yet. I’ll tell him in the morning. If he gets too excited, he won’t sleep and then I’ll be up with him all night. I doubt you’ll want us sleeping on you tomorrow,” she said, attempting some humor._

_Suddenly, Kei’s voice changed, the light, playful tone turning husky. “No, not unless you were in my bed,” he had murmured, causing Bulma to blush bright red as he cleared his throat. “I mean, I wouldn’t want you to…er…fall asleep and miss all the fun…”_

_He chuckled nervously and Bulma swallowed heavily. “Heh, right,” she said, the blush on her face still present._

_“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I said that.”_

_“No, no, it’s fine.”_

_“No, it’s not, that was rude of me! I didn’t mean I want to sleep with you or anything… I mean… Ah, Kami!” Kei stuttered, causing the blush on Bulma’s face to brighten._

_In an attempt to lighten the mood, Bulma said, “So you don’t want to sleep with me?” Before she frowned at herself. Where the hell did that come from?!_

_She was met with silence on the other end, then a small chuckle. “Are we really talking about this or am I being trapped?” Kei asked lightly._

_Finally, the tension eased some as Bulma responded. “Well, I had to ask, because for a moment, I was questioning whether you were gay or not since you said you don’t want to sleep with me. I mean not to toot my own horn, but I’ve been told I’m attractive,” she flirted with a slight smile._

_Kei laughed easily. “Damn, you figured out my secret!” he joked. “I’m only with you to cover up the fact that I’m gay and am currently in a secret relationship with my gay lover!”_

_Bulma shook her head as she chuckled. What was once an awkward tension melted away into a playful banter._

She stood there staring at the phone. It was the first time they had acknowledged the sexual tension between them. In the moment, Bulma forgot about her situation, excitement and anticipation of the new romance eclipsing her problems for the few short minutes it did. Oddly, it was nice.

“You’re going out with that fool again?”

Bulma jumped, startled by the deep accented voice from behind her. She turned to see Vegeta leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen, his sinful eyes penetrating into her. She took a deep breath.

“Yes, not that it’s any of your business.”

His arched brow spoke volumes and was enough to send delicious shivers down her spine.

“You are my mate-to-be, of course it’s my business what lower class you associate with,” he explained simply.

Bulma frowned at his terminology. “There’s that word again. It’s all over your journal too. What does that even mean?”

Vegeta smirked as he took a step into the room, the expression on his face taunting.

“It explains it in the journal, why don’t you figure it out yourself?” he mocked as he approached her slowly, predatorily.

Gritting her teeth with frustration, she growled, “Because the damned translation you gave me wasn’t enough to piece everything together!”

At this point, he was standing inches from her, his smirk still in place. She could tell he did that on purpose and it infuriated her.

“You did it on purpose didn’t you?! Just dangle the information in front of me before yanking it out of my reach! That is so like you!” she spewed, her hands gesturing wildly as she yelled, never taking notice the intense heat radiating from Vegeta, nor the arousing look he shot her as she spout off at the mouth. “Kami, you are so frustrating! I don’t even know why you gave me that journal in the first place if you won’t help me translate it so I can understand this… this… thing that’s going on between us, if there is anything between us—“

Before Bulma could finish her heated speech, her lips were smashed against his in a crushing kiss, his rough large hands framing her face and his pelvis grinding into hers as he backed her up into the counter, trapping her between it and his body. It was completely cheating and against the courtship rituals, but Vegeta didn’t care, nor did Bulma know for it to matter. He knew this foolish thing she had going on with Kei was potentially dangerous to his relationship with her, and he was willing to pull anything at this point to put a stop to what they had and win her over.

It also wasn’t unpleasant as she hungrily kissed him back after recovering from her initial shock, her one leg hitching itself over his hip so their centers met and moans filled the air. All thought process left Bulma in that moment and all that matter was her need for relief and the feel of Vegeta’s naked skin against her own.

Neither noticed when her phone lit up behind her on the counter, Kei’s face flashing on the screen with written text below.

_oOo_

_…TBC…_


	8. Chapter 7: Moment Stolen

Bulma honestly couldn’t explain what was going through her mind. Her back was currently bent over the counter, her lips pressed heatedly against Vegeta’s, her arms snaking themselves around his waist and her fingers digging into his back. His tongue had somehow wormed its way into her mouth, eagerly exploring and dueling with her own. She couldn’t say where this sudden passionate side of Vegeta rose from, but she wasn’t complaining in the least.

Little moans filled the air and the temperature of the room rose higher and higher with each push and thrust of their hips against one another. Above her moans, Bulma could hear the rumble of Vegeta’s growls, the sound of them vibrating through her being. They sounded so primal and animalistic. It was exciting and just as terrifying.

In seconds, minutes, maybe even hours, Vegeta’s hands left her face to grip her thighs, before suddenly lifting her into the air without breaking their kiss. Her butt landed with a bounce on top of the counter, inevitably shoving her phone further down the countertop. The new position forced Bulma to move her arms from his waist to around his neck, her long fingers tangling themselves in his thick mane before forming into tight fists as she yanked on the precious threads, causing Vegeta to groan and drag her forward on the counter closer to him.

Behind them, the phone lit up again with another text causing the counter to vibrate, but neither noticed due to Vegeta growling again, this time louder as he nipped his way down the length of her neck to her shoulder. Bulma was so lost in the moment as she wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands traveling their way down his muscular chest to the waist of his sweat pants. She tugged at them as she buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent deeply. He smelled heavily of body wash with a slight hint of sweat and warmth pooled in her lower stomach.

All common sense disappeared as they groped each other, his large hands coming down to caress and squeeze her breasts. The feel of fabric between them was frustrating, but they didn’t want to take the time to pull apart in order to rid themselves of the offending articles. Instead, Vegeta gripped the top of her shirt and yanked it down to reveal her lace bra beneath. He dipped his thumb inside to brush against her nipple which instantly pebbled, causing Bulma to hiss as his nails scrapped against the sensitive bud.

Feeling adventurous, Bulma wiggled her hand between them to feel the outline of his erection, the protruding length tenting within his sweats. Vegeta groaned as her hand skimmed up and down the hardened member through his pants, her hand coming to rest at the top of his length before her fingers curled around it to give it a slight tug and pull.

The feeling was amazing and Vegeta nearly forgot why he came into the kitchen in the first place. He just wanted to bury himself deep inside her and never come back out till he reached his peak. He envisioned her warmth and wondered if she felt the same since before she gave birth. It had been so long since anything happened between them and even longer since he had her in his bed. He was becoming desperate and that annoyed him. The Prince of Saiya-jins never became desperate, but something about this woman caused the animal inside of him to scratch and claw at the surface, begging to be released.

His grip on her tightened as she continued to explore, her kisses upon his neck turning from hungry to ravenous. It was when she bit into his neck with her own version of a growl that nearly ended him. He released her hips to grip the counter, his forehead resting on her shoulder as he caught his breath in order to calm the raging inferno inside him. If he didn’t slow down, if she didn’t slow down, he would finish before ever feeling her sweet warmth around him and he was not willing to let that happen.

Bulma took her time as she pumped him, but when he released her and rested himself fully against her, she frowned. Frustrated, she leaned back to place her hands on his chest, pushing him forward so she could hop down from the counter, Vegeta giving her a puzzled look as he stood back. She turned him so his back was against the counter and she fell to her knees before him, her hands instantly finding purchase within his sweats. His head fell back as she leaned forward to kiss the bulge through the fabric, her hands sliding inside his pants to feel his hardened length quiver.

Licking her lips, Bulma lowered the waist of his sweats till they were just around his thighs to reveal his member. Glancing up at him, she met his eyes, his irises dilated heavily in his arousal, making him look more sinister than usual. But Bulma knew better. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward to lick up along his length and she heard him hiss in pleasure. It was at this moment common sense began to kick back in, but things were too far ahead for her to stop. He tasted amazing and she couldn’t help the aching feeling in her heart. She had missed this, missed him.

Just for now, it would be enough.

Vegeta groaned when he felt her warm, wet mouth encase his length, the sucking sensation enough to drive any normal man over the edge. But he held on. He watched as her head bobbed up and down, her tongue licking the head of his cock as she passed over it before sucking her way down to the base. What she couldn’t fit into her mouth, she caressed and kneaded with her hands gently.

For now, time was suspended around them. They were the only two that existed in this moment. Vegeta’s groans and growls were enough to encourage Bulma to make noises of her own, spurring her onward as she gave herself completely over to this. For once, neither questioned what they were doing nor did they allow their thoughts to ruin the moment. This was too perfect, too spontaneous, and too explosive to even bother asking the question why .

Vegeta could feel himself nearing that faithful edge, the one he had been clawing towards for so long and now it was in sight. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair as he helped her along, her sucking becoming more forceful until finally he spilled himself with a low grunt into her mouth. She took everything he was willing to give selfishly and the next thing she knew, his length left her mouth and she was being lifted back onto the counter.

Snarling, Vegeta ripped her jeans away from her body, her panties turning to ribbons as they cascaded to the floor. Her legs were spread in an instant and before she could blink, Vegeta was kneeling before her in almost the same position she had been moments ago. She inhaled deeply at the sight as he made quick work of propping her left leg over his shoulder, giving her one final glance before charging forward to taste her.

Bulma’s eyes grew wide at the sensation of his rough tongue sliding between her folds, her head falling back as she gasped. The quick drive of his tongue and the nip of his fangs nearly sent her over the edge in that instant. Greedily wanting to feel more, Bulma lifted her right leg till the heel of her foot was on the counter edge. She leaned further back, her one hand supporting her behind her back while the other one stroked through his hair. She mewled as he nibbled on her sensitive nub, her eyes rolling backwards at the tingling sensation that jolted from her center.

Then, at her entrance, she felt the callousness of his fingers, his face shifting somewhat as he pressed two fingers forward, his digits immediately encased in her sheath. Bulma could feel as her muscles tightened around them and she shifted her hips as his fingers began the in and out motion. She tried to be quiet, really she did, but the feel of his rough fingers and the constant lapping of his devilish tongue caused her to cry out for more.

Vegeta reveled in her passionate cries and with a wicked glint in his eyes; he pulled away from her center, causing her to groan in frustration. But it wasn’t long-lived and soon, Bulma’s eyes widened significantly at the new sensation that emitted from her heated center. Her body jolted and shuddered, and to keep herself from screaming she slapped a hand over her mouth and bit down on her palm, her moans muffled.

He smirked deviously as his fingers now lit with ki were pressed against her swollen nub, sensitizing it even more so than before.

It wasn’t long before her thighs began to quiver, her legs tightening around his shoulders, and then even her hand couldn’t stop the shrieks of pleasure as she finally reached climax, the noises echoing off the walls.

_oOo_

Bulma stood in her bedroom staring at herself in her vanity mirror in disbelief. She had wanted to play it off like a dream, but the achiness between her legs, followed by the lingering quivering sensation in her thighs denied her wishes. It had happened and she had been a fully willing participant. She wanted to blame him as he sat her down from the counter with a smirk. She wanted to slap his hands away as he helped her to redress herself when she just stood there in a daze. She wanted to scream at him, to hit him and ask him who he thought he was when he brushed her hair away from her shoulder with gentle ease, gave her one last lingering look, before arranging his own messy clothing and leaving the kitchen. But she didn’t.

She had just stood there and watched him leave stupidly before finally deciding to head up to her own room for a much needed shower and a good berating. And now, here she stood, the door to her bedroom firmly closed, her reflection staring back at her accusingly. And as Bulma continued to gaze at herself, she found herself utterly confused.

She had enjoyed that blissful moment of blinding ecstasy with him and when her thoughts traveled to Kei, she was both uncaring of the situation and guilty for having been a part of it. Bulma sighed and turned away from the mirror. Kei made her feel wonderful and she couldn’t deny she had feelings for him. But the level of feelings she had for him didn’t compare to what she felt for Vegeta.

However, Vegeta was a prideful man, something she both loved and hated about him. She had put her heart on her sleeve for him, produced an heir for him albeit accidentally, but he had someone who would carry on his name and legacy. It was obvious to her that he had some level of attraction and emotion towards her, but after so long of being denied, turned down, and feeling unworthy, she had enough.

But now, she wasn’t so sure of herself.

Even though he had drilled it into her that she wasn’t worthy enough nor was she Saiya-jin, Bulma was beginning to doubt herself. Words were just words, she was beginning to realize. He had spoken many harsh, threatening words, but never had he _really_ carried them out in any physical action. And it was then it dawned on her.

She groaned and flung herself on the bed.

Vegeta was a man of action. She had never paid much attention to it, too blinded by her own needs and desires to really see the bigger picture. But now, she was seeing it for what it really was, and she felt stupid. The leather bound book Vegeta had given her caught her eye. It laid carelessly on the end of her bed where she tossed it in frustration for the umpteenth time.

She sat up and fingered the cover of the book, her thoughts turning to her son and for a moment, she wondered if Vegeta would one day pass his journal down to Trunks. Little Trunks who now slept peacefully in his nursery didn’t deserve any of this. She was being selfish, but so was Vegeta.

It was time she thought about what her baby boy needed.

Her jaw tightened and she stood. But instead of heading in the direction of Vegeta’s room, she went straight into the bathroom to clean herself.

It was time she put aside her selfish desires.

_oOo_

The next morning found Bulma gingerly walking down the stairs, Trunks happily secured on her hip. She glanced around the room to see if Vegeta was present, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, Bulma pressed a kiss to Trunks’ forehead.

“We’re gonna have fun today, baby!” Bulma enthused to Trunks as she entered the dining room. “We’re gonna go to the circus and see all the animals!”

Trunks blinked up at her as she situated him in his high chair. His mother was in an oddly good mood this morning and his usual grumpiness was forgotten as he watched her beaming smile and matched it with one of his own.

“See! You’re excited, right?!” She exclaimed as she brushed his bangs away from his face before heading to the kitchen to fix him some food.

Last night, she had come to a revelation. This was no longer about her, it was about Trunks. She may be lonely, but her needs weren’t as important as the needs of her son, she scolded herself. So, she had made a decision and she was going to stick to it. Now, it was up to either Kei or Vegeta.

Once Trunks was finished with his meal, Bulma had him buckled in his stroller, ready and prepared for the day. Just as she knelt down in front of him to adjust each strap a knock sounded at the door and Bulma glanced over her shoulder before down at her watch. He was earlier than expected, she thought. Instead of thinking too much on it, Bulma pushed the stroller towards the door and opened it to greet him with a smile.

“Hi,” she breathed.

Kei smiled brightly, leaning forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “Hi,” he replied as he helped her with the stroller. “Ready to go?”

Bulma nodded, her heart pounding almost nervously as they made their way out.

She spoke minimal on the way to the circus, the previous night an ever constant memory replaying in her head. Kei, however, spoke enough, encouraging Trunks’ excitement and attempting to coax Bulma from her own world, but she would only smile and reply when necessary.

She was anxious and she had much to say, the memories of her time with Vegeta a constant in her head. She felt guilty for enjoying it, but she also felt guilty for not feeling guilty for being a part of it.

It was all so confusing.

So instead, she sat there at the circus and attempted to put Vegeta from her mind… with little success.

_oOo_

“Is everything okay, Bulma?”

“Hmmm?” She murmured as she turned her eyes away from the setting sun to the man sat next to her. “Oh yeah, everything’s fine.”

Kei furrowed his brow skeptically. “You sure? You barely spoke a word today and you seem far away…” He glanced back out the front window as he drove before he asked hesitantly, “Did I do something?”

Bulma blinked. “What?”

He sighed. “Did I do something wrong? Say something I shouldn’t have? I…” He sighed again, this time with frustration. “I know we haven’t been together long, but… I kind of feel like… you’re pushing me away. So was it something I did?”

She shook her head and opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. “Because if that’s so, I just want you to know that whatever it is, I want to talk about it! I think you’re amazing,” he breathed out with a small smile at her, “and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I really, really like you and I don’t want to mess this up with something stupid I may have done.”

She sat there dumbstruck, the words she had originally wanted to spill drying in her mouth.

Then he said, “And if I couldn’t see this little guy again,” he gestured to the sleeping Trunks in the back seat, “I’d be pretty devastated…”

Bulma followed his gestured and her eyes softened at the sight. He’d had fun earlier that day, his eyes lighting up like fireworks when he was able to ride the back of the elephants with both her and Kei. And when there was a brief moment where he cried after he was forced off the elephant, Kei was there to easily calm him down; his soothing voice and rocking motion immediately easing Trunks fit. The thought melted her nerves away.

Biting her lip, she said softly, “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” She met his eyes and gave him a reassuring smile before grasping his hand and squeezing it. “But I’m okay. You were great today with Trunks. It was really sweet to see.”

Kei smiled brightly and lifted their entwined hands to his lips.

_oOo_

Carefully Bulma cradled Trunks as she pulled him from his seat, Kei waiting patiently to walk them both inside.

“He’s out, isn’t he?” Kei whispered with amazement.

Bulma chuckled quietly. “Yeah, he definitely had fun today.” She said as they both walked up to the door.

He nodded. “Did you?”

“Yeah, I did,” she assured him as they stopped by the door, Trunks’ head nestled on her shoulder and her hands cradling him under his legs. They stood their awkwardly for a moment before she spoke, “I should get this one to bed…”

“Yeah,” Kei said, but as soon as she turned to grasp the door knob he stopped her with his hand on her free one. “Wait a sec…”

Bulma glanced up at him questioningly and watched as he fidgeted nervously. “What?”

He sighed. “Look… About what I said in the car,” he started and Bulma nodded, encouraging him to continue. “I meant what I said. I really do like you, Bulma. And if there’s anything on your mind… anything at all… you can talk to me about it,” he reached up and lightly brushed her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “I think what you and I have… I think it could really go somewhere and I don’t want to ruin it…”

Her stomach fluttered at his words.

_I think it could go somewhere too… and that scares me._

Instead of voicing her thoughts, she leaned upwards and kissed him on the corner of his mouth, before pulling back and smiling.

He returned her smile and stepped back, watching as she opened the door and stepped through. Once she disappeared inside the compound he let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. After gathering his wits, he turned and headed for his car, never once noticing the dark figure watching from the top of the compound with a deep scowl on his face.

_oOo_

_…TBC…_


	9. Chapter 8: It Comes to This

Bulma thought it odd that she hadn’t seen Vegeta over the next several days. She combed the compound in search of him, but with no success. On the days she worked, her time was occupied with Kei as he sat in her office helping her go over spread sheets and data, but more often than she liked to admit, her mind was on Vegeta’s whereabouts. Kei noticed her faraway look, but never questioned her on it, deciding to give her the space he thought she needed.

And when she was alone, the incident in the kitchen would haunt her, tying her stomach in knots and thinning the air till she had trouble breathing. Since the circus, Bulma avoided Kei outside of work, instead taking the time to be with Trunks. She told herself it was because things were becoming too intense between them, but she was only kidding herself.

She knew what she should do and she was avoiding it.

What a coward she had become…

Her phone buzzed and lit up, but Bulma barely paid it any attention. She sat at the dinner table chewing on her thumb nail, lost in thought, little Trunks playing at her feet. Something felt off, the nerves in her stomach tightened, and she was on edge. Something had transpired over the last few days, something she had missed, something that caused Vegeta to disappear, but she couldn’t figure out what.

Sighing, she sat back in the chair and watched her son absentmindedly, envying his carefree attitude. If only she could live such a way, then the situation she was in wouldn’t seem so complicated. She’d be able to make her decision without worry or fear of causing pain in another, but such is life. In times like this, she envied Vegeta too. His careless attitude was something she wished she could portray, but she couldn’t imagine putting herself through the years of torture and agony it took him to achieve such a trait. No, she was fine caring and the pain she would inevitably cause would eventually pass. It was only a matter of time.

When Trunks yawned, Bulma smiled. Leaning down, she caressed his head and said, “Sleepy, baby?”

He blinked up at her and rubbed at his eyes as he yawned again. She glanced over her shoulder at the clock on the wall, taking in the double digit numbers with surprise. It had gotten late and she had sat at the table lost in thought for hours. She reached down to gather Trunks close and he went willingly, his warm little body cuddling close to hers as she carried him. She smiled, pleased that he wasn’t fighting her about sleep for once.

Rubbing his small back, Bulma carried him up the stairs, murmuring soothingly in his ear. She made her way into his nursery, bypassing his crib and carrying him to the bathroom for a much needed bath. He began to fuss at the sight of the tub and shook his head.

“No mama!” he said as he began to wriggle in her arms.

She frowned. “Trunks, you need a bath! Don’t start your fit now!” Bulma scolded as she began to undress him. He pouted, his lips turned downward in that familiar scowl that always tugged at her heart, but she ignored it, instead squeezing his tiny cheeks teasingly as she pulled the last of his clothes off.

“Now, now, don’t give me that look! It’ll be a quick bath and then you can sleep,” she promised as he continued to pout.

She shook her head and turned to fill the tub before setting him in it and kneeling before him. Minutes went by as she scrubbed away and soon his pout relented into another yawn, his head leaning into her ministrations as his eyes began to shut.

Before she finished, they popped open brightly and he gasped out with delight, “Daddy!” causing Bulma’s stomach to churn nervously. She glanced behind her, expecting him to be standing in the doorway, but all she saw was darkness from the nursery and she frowned. Either he was back and hiding from her or he was close, but not home.

No, he had to be back. The look on her sons face told her enough.

It wasn’t long before the tub was emptied and Trunks was dried and dressed. Bulma left the wet towels on the floor of the bathroom and lifted him back in her arms, his body heavy with sleep as she carried him to his crib and laid him down. She stood over him for what seemed like forever, watching his chest rise and fall peacefully, before gasping when a gruff voice said, “Onna.”

She spun around to see a dark figure standing in the corner of the room and she placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart in an attempt to still it.

“Kami, Vegeta,” she whispered fiercely. “Don’t scare me like that!”

She couldn’t see his face in the shadow, but the air suddenly felt thin and cold, the atmosphere tense now that they stood in each other’s presence. Something about the way he stood told her he was unapproachable and she refused to move.

“We need to talk,” was all he said.

She swallowed and nodded. “Not here, though. I just put Trunks to sleep, I don’t want to wake him…” Finally, she waltzed past him and she could feel the spark of electricity ignite. He was angry, that much she could tell.

He followed her, his steps quiet as they walked down the hall to the stairs. They made their way out the back to the patio near the pool and she took a breath. They were a good distance that if they fought, no one would wake up and hear them. She turned around to see him standing close and she instinctively took a step back, only to gasp as his hand shot out like lightening to grab her around the waist and pull her close.

His nose buried itself in the crook of her neck and she could feel his hot breath on his skin. She tensed and still, unsure of his motives.

“V… Vegeta? What are you doing?”

Her chest began to vibrate, until she realized it wasn’t hers, it was his. He was growling low and she could barely hear it.

“I don’t think you fully comprehend exactly what we are, Onna,” Vegeta nearly snarled, his nose now inching its way up her slender neck to behind her ear. “And I can’t blame you for it completely… you are not Saiya-jin. But I’ve decided I’m tired of this game.”

She blinked and shivered at the sensation of his nose rubbing against her sensitive skin.

“Game? What game?” Bulma whispered huskily.

He reared back with a hiss. “This game you have going on between you and that wretched fool of yours!”

She blinked in surprise and opened her mouth to protest, but he was quick to cut her off. “Don’t sit there and pretend it isn’t a game, onna!” He pulled away from her, putting a good distance between them as he paced. “You damn well know exactly what it is you’re doing,” he spun on her as she stood speechless. “I gave you that book, I translated it for you! You know what it is your doing!”

Bulma went pale as she scrambled for thoughts on what she read. The mating rituals of his people had been an interesting read, but she had to admit that it terrified her and she immediately put the book down after a short time. But only after she reached the part about rivals.

She felt nauseous. Maybe she had been prancing Kei around subconsciously, but she didn’t want to admit it was for Vegeta’s benefit. She continued to tell herself she was lonely and he gave her the attention she deserved.

Vegeta watched her struggle and couldn’t help but feel satisfied.

“Do you know what I’ve done for you?”

Bulma met his eyes hesitantly. His tone was cold and callous and with each word was like a searing punch to the gut. But no. She refused to be the sole target of his anger. The tables were going to be turned.

“How can I?” she spat. “You give me a book, I ask you questions, I get no answers!” She took a step forward, but he remained still, his arms folded tightly across his chest. “What did I ever get from you?! I gave you a home, a new life, technology beyond your wildest dreams, and a fucking son! All I ever got from you was this,” she gestured to his standoffish stance. “A man, who was too stubborn to swallow his pride and admit that he needed me. No, you had to go and give me a book—“

“You don’t understand what that _book_ means, then!” he replied in an almost too calm manner.

She stared at him with disbelief. “Of course, I don’t, Vegeta! I asked you once! Do you remember that?” She chuckled humorlessly. “Right, you don’t. You told me to mind my own fucking business and then you left the next day for space. That was the same day you told me what we had between us meant nothing. So, does that book mean nothing? Does Trunks mean nothing? Do I mean nothing?”

At this point, she had angry tears in her eyes, but none had spilled over. His expression hadn’t once changed and she could feel herself deflating with every second.

 _I’m just wasting breath_ , she thought.

“You know what, forget it. Forget I asked, I don’t even want to hear the answer. I was stupid to think that someday, you would let me in and Trunks would have a family and maybe I’d be able to give you a better life, but I was naïve to think that. So just forge—“

“Onna, shut up!” He spat and she frowned with displeasure. She opened her mouth, ready to insult him surely, but he was quick on the draw. His hand shot out and covered her mouth. “No, I’m done hearing your shrieking voice. It’s my turn, now!”

Bulma glanced down at the hand covering her mouth and then up at him. She glared, determined that if he didn’t move it in the next minute, she was going to bite.

“I’ll tell you exactly what that book means, but I want something in return.”

She rolled her eyes, her tears now dried and her irritation a low simmer. She reached up and slapped at the hand covering her mouth, her eyes burning into his. Eventually he removed the hand with a small smirk, but it washed away as quick as it appeared, replaced with a serious façade.

“I’m afraid to ask what you want in return…” she murmured, her arms coming up to fold in front of her chest.

“We both know you and that idiot aren’t going anywhere. He’s just something you use to pass the time,” he stated bluntly.

Bulma’s brow furrowed and she shook her head. “No, you’re wrong, Vegeta. I care about Kei.”

He smirked again, like he had a secret she didn’t know. “Really?” he said tauntingly. He began stepping forward and she backed up until she tripped on a lounge chair and landed in it with an _umph_. He leaned over her like a predator trapping its prey and said, “Tell me…” he licked his lips and her pupils dilated at the sight, “were you thinking of him when I was between your legs the other night? Was it him you thought of while you sucked me off?” She blushed prettily at those words, shocked at his vulgarity. He was never one to speak in such a way.

He waited a second to see if she would respond and when she didn’t he chuckled triumphantly. “And was it his name you shouted when you came? No… it was mine.” She only just noticed her loud and rapid breathing as he continued. “So, tell me, Bulma. Do you care for this _Kei_?”

She shook her head and refused to meet his eyes. “That’s not fair of you to throw that in my face.”

Two calloused fingers were placed under her chin, forcing her head to tilt till their eyes met. The intense desire burning in his gaze nearly took her breath away. It was the same look she had seen in him when he fought in battles on Namek and this look was directed at her.

“When it comes to something I want, I will never fight fair.” He backed away from her and said, “You haven’t been fighting fair either.”

Shakily, she sat up and ran a trembling hand through her messy hair. Taking a breath, she said, “So that’s your condition… break it off with Kei?”

He nodded once.

Bulma’s eyes narrowed and she chewed on her bottom lip. “And if I don’t?”

“I want the book returned to me in the condition it was given and any offer I have given you will be forgotten.”

“And you’ll never tell me what it meant? That right?” She asked, before following that question with, “Would you leave?”

She could see his hands fist out of the corner of her eyes before he grounded out, “I’d stay to train the boy, nothing more.”

Bulma nodded. “And if I do break it off with Kei… am I to say anything in particular to him?”

He knew what she was getting at and although it was pleasing to think what it would do to the weakling if he were to find out what had transpired between him and Bulma, at this point it didn’t matter.

“I don’t give a shit what you say to the fool, I want him gone,” he stated simply. He turned away from her, sensing her struggle and offered, “You have till midnight to make a decision.”

She stood up as he began walking away. “What if I can’t find you?” He stopped walking and turned back towards her. “You have this habit of disappearing, ya know…”

Vegeta’s left eye twitched. “I won’t leave.”

_oOo_

Midnight was only an hour away and Bulma hadn’t left the lounge chair. To be fair, she had already made her decision, she just wanted to use the time to reflect. What Vegeta was asking for wasn’t entirely out of the question and not exactly in the realm of unfair. He was right, she didn’t fully understand what the book meant and who they were to each other. All she knew were the basics and it wasn’t nearly enough to piece together the entire puzzle.

She was unsure of how to break things off with Kei. He was sweet, he loved Trunks, and if things were different, she could see herself marrying someone like him. But things weren’t different and though she kept telling herself she cared for him, she didn’t love him. It would only be more painful if she carried it out any longer…

Things had gone too far anyways.

Vegeta was right. She was using him. Kei was a good distraction from life and she wouldn’t deny she was attracted to him, but that was all it was. Physical attraction.

She just hoped this wouldn’t jeopardize their work relationship. He was an excellent researcher and data manager. One of the best she had come across. She was kicking herself for ever thinking it was a good idea to enter into a personal relationship with someone she worked with. She didn’t encourage her co-workers to do so and she became a hypocrite.

And the real question…

Should she tell him what she did with Vegeta? Was it even worth it?

She hadn’t felt guilty for it, not until Vegeta brought it up. Again, he was right. He was the furthest thing from her mind and in that moment, she couldn’t even remember his name. All she had cared about was Vegeta and reaching release.

Bulma rolled her eyes in frustration. If she didn’t come clean, it would haunt her… If she came clean, it would haunt her.

It was a lose-lose situation…

_oOo_

Five minutes before midnight found Bulma casually making her way down the hall towards Vegeta’s room. On the outside she radiated calm, on the inside was turmoil. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the prospect of what was to come. Tonight was a turning point in her life, everything was going to change. She had yet to determine if it was for the better or worse…

Approaching his door, Bulma hesitated. Was this what she wanted? Was she ready for this?

Shaking her head of these thoughts, she lifted her hand to knock, only to have the door swing open with Vegeta standing on the other side. Of course he knew she was there. He probably sensed her coming the moment she stood from the lounge chair. They stood with only the threshold separating them, neither speaking. Her hands clasped in front of her in a nervous gesture, her fingers tapping against one another, while he stood still, the perfect image of calm and collected.

His raised eyebrow gave away his irritation. “Well?”

Bulma chewed on her lip and met his eyes. “I’ll do it.”

Vegeta smirked. “Tell me I was right,” he said smugly.

She frowned, unimpressed. “Now that’s going too far.” She turned and began walking down the hall towards her own room, shouting over her shoulder. “I’ll call him tomorrow and then you’ll tell me.” With that, the sound of a door closing echoed down the now empty hall and Vegeta chuckled to himself.

He knew he was right, she didn’t need to say it.

_oOo_

The morning came too quickly and with it, the vibrations of several texts on her phone. She had decided to stay in bed for as long as she could, knowing her mother would take care of Trunks in her stead. She didn’t want to get up to face the day, she was putting off the inevitable. But she had promised it would be done and knowing Vegeta, he would check to see if she kept her word.

 _Kami knows that man’s a walking lie detector…_ she thought with disdain.

Bulma glanced at the clock on her nightstand and groaned when her phone vibrated again. She had avoided Kei’s calls for too long and an explanation was long overdue. She sat up, the blankets spilling to her waist as she gathered her phone and swiped to read each text. Most of it consisted of _“are you okay?”_ and _“please call me!”_ and she just scrolled past those. Finally, she opened a blank text and typed out, _“I’m fine… can we meet today?”_

Her thumb hovered over the send button and she wondered if it would be better if this was done over the phone, but decided against it. He deserved better than that. Sending the text, she set the phone back down on the nightstand and got out of bed. Flinging open her closet, she gathered up a loose blouse and jeans before heading for the showers. Even though today was going to be a disaster, she might as well make herself feel better by dolling herself up.

Forty five minutes went by before she emerged from the bathroom clean, dressed, and primped. Her hair was clipped up, the ends spilling over loosely to frame her face and her makeup was neat and natural. She sat on the edge of the bed, toeing her flats on as she checked her phone.

 _“Sure, should I pick you up?”_ he sent.

Bulma grimaced at the aspect of spending an awkward afternoon in a car with him. No, definitely not. It was more than enough to have to do this in person; spending the time afterwards in the car if or when he took her home would be unbearable. And the idea of walking back was out of the question.

 _“No, I can just meet you there, it’d be easier. Meet you at Gordo’s in an hour?”_ she sent, feeling only slightly satisfied. Gordo’s was known for its secluded dining areas and she knew they would need the privacy for something like this. If she thought she could get away with it, she’d just have him come to the compound and end it there, but she knew with Vegeta being in the same area, the idea wasn’t exactly wise.

The further they were from each other, the better.

Minutes later, Bulma entered the kitchen to find her mother bouncing Trunks on her hip as she stirred a pot and she couldn’t help but smile. She snatched her keys off the counter, grasping her mother’s attention as she did so.

“Going somewhere, sweetie?” Bunny chirped as she sat the spoon down next to the pot.

Bulma nodded. “Out with Kei. I’m sure I won’t be long…” she replied with lack of enthusiasm.

Her mother gave her a sympathetic look, one she was too familiar with. It was the same look she was given whenever she and Yamcha were on the split. Normally, it would annoy her, but today her nerves were already shot. A little sympathy was exactly what she needed.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you two, love,” Bunny murmured soothingly as she adjusted Trunks on her hip.

Bulma shrugged nonchalantly. “What makes you think we’re breaking up?”

And there was the other look she was familiar with. The ‘ _I may be your ditzy mother, but I’m not stupid’_ look. She smirked a little at that.

“I know the signs, Bulma, dear. And if this were an actual date, you wouldn’t have just told me you ‘wouldn’t be long’. So what happened?”

The heiress frowned. “What do you think happened?”

Bunny smiled and giggled. “Vegeta?”

Bulma rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. “Pretty much…”

Her mother’s eyes lit up. “Oh my Kami… Are you two back together?!” she squealed, causing Trunks to wince at the high pitched sound.

“No, absolutely not! We would’ve had to have been together and split up in order to get _back together_!”

“Oh nonsense! Something happened between you two that much is obvious!”

Bulma groaned but stayed silent, which caused Bunny to snicker.

“I know I’m right! So, what happened?” Bulma winced at the thought of having to tell her mother anything, and Bunny noticed this, and frowned. “Oh, come on, Bulma. I may be your mother, but I’m not a prude! If I were, you certainly wouldn’t be here!”

“Ugh! I don’t want to hear that!” the heiress shuddered.

“Fine, just tell me… was it recent?” Bunny asked, a glint in her eyes.

Biting her lip, Bulma nodded.

“And I’m assuming Kei doesn’t know?”

She shook her head mutely.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Bulma hesitated in her answer and Bunny narrowed her eyes. “Bulma…” she began only to trail off with a sigh. “Never mind. You’re a grown woman, you can make your own decisions. Anyway, it’s better that you end things now if you want to pick things back up with Vegeta.”

At that, the blue-haired beauty winced. Her mother’s tone was filled with disproval and disappointment, but she refused to explain that anything between her and Vegeta was just a fantasy. She didn’t want a lecture and already this day was turning out to be shitty.

Dangling the keys in her hand, Bulma stepped forward to kiss her son on the head and she said, “I’ll be back soon…”

She turned and left the kitchen, her mother’s disappointment weighing heavily on her shoulders.

_oOo_

To her utter disappointment, _Gordo’s_ was packed and her heart dropped into her stomach. What she thought was going to be a quiet restaurant turned out to be anything but. She pulled up in front of the sleek place and eyed the crowed sitting out on the patio with disdain, wishing they would all disappear. The last thing she wanted to encounter was a scene when things ended and a crowd was sure to attract the paparazzi.

She hated the thought of her private life becoming public news and knew that if word was going to get out about this, Capsule Corp would take a direct hit.

She was cursed.

Taking a deep breath, Bulma parked her car and got out, attempting to portray a cool façade as she approached the hostess station. There standing next to some guests was Kei, his hands firmly stashed in his pockets as he, too, eyed the crowd with surprise. Upon seeing her, he smiled brightly and immediately brought her in for a warm hug and gentle kiss on the lips, but Bulma turned her head in time so that her cheek caught it instead.

He thought nothing of it, instead thinking she was examining the crowded restaurant.

“This place is busy,” she murmured disappointedly.

Kei chuckled. “Yeah, I think they have a new menu promotion going on,” he replied as he caressed her back. “They said they can seat us whenever. I told them who I was meeting… I don’t think they believed me at first till you came walking in.”

She gave a half-hearted smile at that and the hostess approached them before turning about-face to direct them to their table. Several other guests glared at the two at being seated so quickly, but neither took the time to notice.

Thankfully they were seated close to the back of the restaurant in a booth, the walls separating them from the other diners, and Bulma felt more at ease. They sat across from each other and took their menus with an appreciative thanks, before waiting for the young hostess to leave them, who took her time when she realized exactly who it was she was seating. When she finally left, Bulma sat her menu down and glanced over at Kei, who was too busy looking over his own menu to notice her nervousness.

She chewed on her bottom lip before clearing her throat and he glanced up with a smile and sat his menu down on the table.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

She took a breath. “Uh… yeah…”

His smile slowly slipped and his eyes tightened. “Really? Then you haven’t been avoiding me?”

Bulma sat back in her chair and rubbed her palms on her thighs. “I wouldn’t exactly say avoiding. I have been busy,” she attempted lamely.

He cocked a brow at this. “Then what would you call it when I text and call, but get nothing back for days on end?”

After a second of silence, she said, “I guess I can understand why you think I’ve been avoiding you…”

Kei shook his head at this. “Did I do something to warrant this?”

Kami, this was harder than she imagined it would be.

“No, you’ve been absolutely great… I’ve just…” Bulma sighed frustrated and leaned on her elbows. “I’ve had a lot to think about these last few days and…” she was cut off as the waiter approached their table with a polite smile and she sat back, her hands going back to her lap.

“Good afternoon! I am Roka and I’ll be taking care of you! Can I get you folks anything to drink?” the young man started as he waited expectantly.

Again, Bulma cleared her throat. “I’ll just take an ice tea.”

Sensing tension, Kei eyed Bulma for a moment before he turned to the waiter and said, “I’ll take a beer. Any IPA you have on tap.”

Bulma blinked in surprise and the waiter nodded before leaving with their drink order.

Kei turned back to the heiress and said, “Anyway, you were saying?”

She shook her head. “You got a beer? That’s unlike you.”

He shrugged. “I’m sensing this is going to be a long, draining conversation. I’m going to need a relaxer.”

Instead of questioning it, she nodded. “Anyway, I’ve had a lot to think about these last few days and I needed the space to do that.”

“You mean, about me? Us?” He asked.

“Yes,” she responded quietly, her eyes finding an interesting spot on the table as she continued. “I’ve been… Kami this is hard!” she groaned and rubbed at her forehead. “I don’t even know where to begin!”

“How about we just get to the point?” she was surprised by the cold tone his voice took and she glanced up at him as he continued. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Before she could reply, the waiter returned with their drinks, setting them gently on the table, before taking out his pad and pen. “And are we ready to order or do we need a minute?”

Without asking whether she was ready and not meeting the waiters eyes, Kei said, “I’ll take the steak salad, dressing on the side.”

Bulma scrambled for a choice before saying, “I’ll have the same,” and the waiter left with their order.

She couldn’t exactly blame Kei for his sudden defensiveness, but it was rather surprising. He stared at her and her heart pounded at his question. She didn’t want to answer, but they both knew what she was going to say.

“Well?” he demanded.

Her eyes turned glassy as she met his stern gaze and she murmured the three words that could potentially destroy her career and companies image.

“Yes… I am…”

_oOo_

_…TBC…_


End file.
